


Tales of Trois Portes: Daemon

by ShifterCat, ShintoNephilim



Category: Original Work
Genre: Actually the kitchen sink is there too, Angel Wings, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Bullying, Corpses, Crushes, Demisexuality, Eye Gouging, F/F, F/M, Family Feels, Family Secrets, High School, M/M, Multi, Non-Consensual Touching, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, POV Female Character, POV First Person, POV Male Character, Rating May Change, Secrets, Slow beginning, Sparring, Subject to Periodic Edits, Superheroes, Superpowers, Swearing, Tags May Change, Teen Crush, Teen Romance, This setting has everything but the kitchen sink, Urban Fantasy, Warnings May Change, cyberspace, technomancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-01-26 01:57:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21366298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShifterCat/pseuds/ShifterCat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShintoNephilim/pseuds/ShintoNephilim
Summary: Max’s mother has always moved frequently, like she’s afraid someone will find them. Even weirder is her insistence that only the bare minimum level of technology be allowed in the house.Ever since they moved to Trois Portes, Max has been having dreams about a luminous woman asking for his help. Those are better than the dreams about something trying to drown him.At least this time, people at school seem to like him. Some of that attention seems oddly intent, though, like they’re trying to protect him... or expecting something from him.———————————————————-ShintoNephilim: A story I’ve been working on for a while, with the help of my partner ShifterCat. I’m open to constructive criticism.
Relationships: Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Tales of Trois Portes: Daemon 1**

**Wednesday**

_ She always appeared in my dreams. She was perhaps two metres tall, and her hair spread out behind her, swaying as if she were underwater. Her skin was glowing, a bright pink and purple, and around her small motes of light circled, matching those colours. She was naked, but like how a kid’s doll was naked – no hair, no details, just smooth, flawless skin. _

_ We were in a featureless void, a sea of darkness with soft lights drifting by. This was how my dreams have been for the last few months, with just me, the void, and her, talking. _

_ I watched him, sensing his uncertainty. Around us, the motes shifted to and fro as my companion and I drifted within the emptiness. I knew this would be an important decision for him, and I understood his hesitation, but this was far too important to leave to chance. I decided I would need to push him just a little more if I wanted his cooperation. _

_ “Please, Max. I need your help, and it is really important to me. There is nobody else I can turn to.” I added a soft quaver to my voice to play upon his sympathies. I could not force him to make this choice, but there were no rules against emotional manipulation. He did not know what he would be getting into, and that was for the best. _

_ My ploy worked. _

_ He hesitated a moment longer, then gave a slow nod. “Well, okay. But it won’t hurt, will it?” he asked. He was in his mid-teens, thin of frame – some might even say wiry – in that awkward stage where boys were all arms and legs while the rest of the body tried to play catch-up. It was the perfect time for my needs, as he could adapt to what was to come. _

_ “No, Max. It will not.” I drifted closer to him, his blue eyes briefly reflecting the violet of my own as I leaned in to breathe into his ear. “Thank you. I knew I could count on you.” My relief was real, my words were true. Within my breath was a small portion of who I was; it drifted into his ear and took root within him. _

_ His eyes glazed, then grew dull. “Okay, I’ll do my best.” _

_ “I know that you will. Do not worry, however, you will do fine. You are very much like your mother; perhaps even stronger than she was.” I placed a hand on his shoulder with a smile, then whispered, “Now wake, Maxwell. You do not want to be late for your first day of school, now do you?” _

**Day 1 - Maxwell Amon**

I woke up in my bed with a start, the breeze from the open window bringing with it the pleasant smell of last night’s rain. There was a crispness to the air that hinted at the end of summer, and the sun had barely begun creeping over the rooftops of Greenwich Village, the trailer park my mom and I had moved into not a month before. I rubbed my eyes as I tried to remember the surreal dream I had just finished having, but the images were already fading. I’d been having the same dream for awhile, I knew that much, but the details always eluded me when I woke up. There had been a woman – I was certain of that – and she’d needed my help with something, but that was all I could pull from it, and even that much was fading away.

I could hear the buzzer from the kitchen, loud and obnoxious, and I knew that it was going to bother me for however long we lived in this trailer home. A mostly-sweet odour was coming from down the hall; my mother’s muffin recipe. The scent of roasting walnuts made me cringe, even when it was mingled with the pleasant smell of nutmeg and cinnamon. I buried my head under the blankets until I couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer.

_ “Max!” _ My mother’s voice was insistent, calling down the hall from the kitchen, and I gave a long-suffering sigh as I pulled myself out of bed. I landed my feet on the floor with a deliberate _ thump _ to let mom know I was up and about as I dragged myself to the bathroom to shower and clean up. As I stripped down, I wondered what would be in store for me today: a new school, a new city, and no friends.

“Yeah, today’s going to be _ fun _ ,” I muttered as I looked in the mirror. I rubbed my face, then frowned as I looked at myself. _ Did I somehow put on a bit of muscle? _ I rubbed my bicep, feeling some tension there. _ Huh. _ I mean, I was still gangly, or as my mom sometimes teased, “so thin you have to run around in the shower to get wet”, but it looked like I was finally filling out.

_ “ – cloudy with a high of only 16 degrees, so dress warmly!” _ came some man’s helpful voice at the edge of my hearing. I hesitated, then peeked outside the bathroom door, straining my hearing but only picking up the clink of mom setting the table.

“Hey, mom. Is someone here?” I called out.

The sounds stopped. “No dear, now hurry up.” The kitchen was only five metres from the bathroom, and I didn’t hear anything else, so I ducked back in and closed the door. The bathroom itself was tiny, a half-bath with only a sink, toilet, and a stand-up shower stall. I stepped into the shower stall, slid the frosted glass door closed, and braced myself as I adjusted the tap before pulling it on. A blast of cold water hit me in the face, causing me to close my eyes tight as a brief wave of panic washed over me.

_ The water was cold – too cold, and it was pulling me down, down, into the dark. _

I gripped the walls, feeling the cold tiles under my fingers as the water shifted from cold to warm, and the terror began to pass. I finally exhaled, letting ragged gasps escape as the fear subsided... though it didn’t completely go away. I slowly opened my eyes and looked at the front of the stall, my heart slowing down as I forced my breathing back to normal.

_ Flailing, trying to reach the surface, the darkness pulling me down… a face… _

Another man’s voice shocked me out of my reverie. _ “This is CTPS, 66.8! The Beeeeeeast!” _ followed by a snarling noise. The voice had been right beside me, I was certain. I panicked, almost slipping as I grabbed the shower rail and looked around to see if there was a radio in the bathroom. A quick search gave away nothing out of place, so I turned off the shower and climbed out to grab a towel.

“Great, now I’m hearing things.” I looked around once more just in case. “We don’t even _ have _a radio.” I wondered where the voice could have come from, then guessed it might have been a neighbour’s. Or maybe a car stereo was being too loud. I towelled off, then glanced at myself once more in the mirror as I combed my fingers through my hair to try to get some sort of order out of the chaos.

My dirty blond hair had grown out over the summer, and now hung down just past my shoulders. I hoped the kids at this new place would find it cool. Mom hated that I’d let it grow out, which was another plus. I’d been totally adamant on keeping my hair growing during our move. I hated the haircuts mom used to insist on giving me with her clippers. This time, I insisted that if I _ had _to attend a new school, I wasn’t going to go in looking like a dork on the first day. Save that for the second.

“I’ll have plenty of opportunities to screw up without your help, mom.”

Something caught my attention, and I leaned in closer to the mirror. My eyes were a little… off. Normally, they would have been sort of watery, but now they were a flat, bright blue. I looked closer, trying to find the flaws in my eye colour – the little flecks of grey and brown I was used to seeing – but they weren’t there. My eyes were eerily uniform today.

“Oh, look. I’ve been replaced by a doppelganger on my first day of school.” I stood up, leaning back. “I’ve seen through your disguise! While you’re at it, you can do my homework, too.”

_ “Maxwell, get out here and eat!” _

I pulled back, started at my reflection for a few more moments, as if expecting it to wave at me, then slowly became aware of a faint buzz in the back of my head – the beginning of a headache. I sighed and quickly began to dress. “Coming!”

“So, why _ here _ ?” I asked as I picked walnuts off my muffin and mom fussed in the kitchen. The dining room was small, and technically a part of the kitchen, only cut off by a counter. “I mean, _ Trois Portes _ ?” Isn’t this, like, the murder capital of Canada? I miss Vancouver.” I was finding it hard to concentrate on eating, and almost took a bite out of the still-nutty muffin by accident. My usual lack of enthusiasm at the idea of a new school was compounded by the buzzing in my head. The air was almost _ fuzzy _, in a way that made me think of the static of a radio not quite in tune.

Not that I’d ever owned a radio, but it felt like a good comparison.

“It most certainly is _ not _,” mom protested, coming in to sit down across from me. I don’t look much like her: she’s brunette with hazel eyes, instead of blonde with blue, so I guess I get my looks from my dad, but she doesn’t talk about him. “Eat the nuts, Max, they’re protein.” She reached out and ruffled my hair, making a disapproving sound. “You’re really going to school with that mop-top?”

I combed my fingers back through my hair to fix it, then nodded. “Yeah, then I’m going to go out and get flesh tunnels. By the end of the week, I’ll be one of those human artworks.”

She huffed at me, then smiled. “You’ll do fine, kiddo. Please try to make a few friends this time, okay?”

I picked at the ruins of my muffin, my smile fading. “Will we stay around long enough for me to keep them this time?” What little appetite I had was swiftly vanishing. Mom reached over and gave my hand a squeeze.

“I know it’s hard, hon. But I think we’ll do fine here. This is a big city.”

I just nodded sullenly, then pulled back my chair and stood up. “I should get going.” I tossed back the last of my orange juice and grabbed my duffle bag. “Catch you later.”

She got up and quickly gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Have a good day, please?” She sounded a little more anxious than normal, and I hesitated, then turned to give her a tight hug.

“Sure thing.”

I slipped out the door, reaching into the mailbox to pull out the flyers from the day before, mostly soggy from the rain. One envelope caught my attention, though, and I flipped it over. The envelope was white, and perfectly dry. The ink on the front hadn’t run, and was an odd metallic silver.

_ Mr. Maxwell David Amon _

_ 1326 Greenwich Village, Queen Elizabeth Drive. _

_ Trois Portes, Ontario, Canada _

_ K6H 0A2 _

Huh. Another first. I kicked the screen door shut with one foot behind me as I headed down the road and through the trailer park. My feet moved me along the route as I turned the letter over in my hands, while I wondered who I’d known long enough for them to send _ me _a letter. I’d only been here a few weeks, and nobody I’d ever known knew my address. There was no return address, but the stamp was unlike any I’d ever seen before – I was certain it wasn’t from Canada or the U.S.

I squinted, trying to get a better view of the stamp from under the post-office ink, but that was smudged. There was a strange texture to the envelope that I also couldn’t put my finger on, and there was something hard and slim inside as well.

I stopped at the intersection without even looking up, turning the envelope over while I considered what was inside. I wasn’t going to open it while I was walking to school, but it was kind of neat to actually have a letter addressed to me. I started crossing the street, then realized I’d not looked to see if the light had changed. I was just lucky that it had and I wasn’t about to get hit by a bus on the way to school.

_ “I’ll call you back later, he’s here.” _ A woman’s voice was right beside me, breaking my focus. I glanced up and looked around, letter forgotten as I tried to see who’d spoken. Besides a few students who were glancing my way, there was nobody close by that would have fit that voice. The headache was gradually getting worse, and I slipped my letter into my duffle bag, noting I was just outside of school grounds.

I had only ever been inside Terrance Stanley Fox High once before, when mom had first signed me up and I had selected courses for the coming year. The school had been built over the summer, and was situated just a few blocks south of the Trois Portes canal, which fed into the St. Lawrence seaway. It was painted a crisp white with royal blue highlights, and had the look and smell of a school with absolutely no history. I made my way to the front doors, watching other students trying to get oriented, and felt some relief at realizing I wasn’t the only one new here.

Just inside the front doors was a rotunda, with bean-green cushions along the inside edge. A ramp circled around the alcove, leading to the second and third floor, and a sign hung from the front of the alcove welcoming people to “The Pit”. A few students had gathered in the rotunda already, claiming spots on the cushions or lounging on the carpet in the middle. A counselor was calling out to the students, telling them that their homerooms had been printed up and taped to the office door. I could feel some of the new students glancing at me, and felt my anxiety increasing. I looked myself over, but failed to notice anything standing out. I could feel myself growing more nervous as I headed for the office, as some of the glances were becoming actual stares.

I mumbled something like an apology under my breath as I quickly scanned for my homeroom and retreated, heading into the nearest hall. The school smelled of paint and plaster, and my nose wrinkled as I tried to navigate the halls. The school was vast, and all the halls looked the same. The students were already beginning to form into clusters as I passed by, and the buzzing in my head was growing louder by the moment as the feeling of isolation began to grow worse.

“Can I help you?” came a woman’s voice. “You seem lost.”

I looked up in surprise, finally realizing someone was talking to me. “I’m looking for room 201A. I thought it would be on the second floor.” I felt distant, detached. “I don’t know where I am.”

The woman who’d spoken seemed like she belonged in a boardroom or some other powerful, high-paying place rather than a public school. The cut of her grey-and-white pantsuit looked expensive to my admittedly untrained eye. She looked Middle-Eastern, with black hair kept quite short. A tiny bit of jewelry caught my eye: some Hebrew symbol on a thin gold chain around her throat.

She studied me for a few moments, then smiled reassuringly. “You’re on the right floor, but you’re in the wrong wing. I can take you there – you’re apparently in my homeroom.” I must have looked surprised, as I saw a little flicker of amusement. She headed towards the east wing, motioning me to follow her. “So, what do you think of the school?”

It took another moment to realize she was talking to me again. “It looks nice, though it seems empty.” She looked around at the students still coming in. I quickly added, “Well, I mean that it doesn’t seem like a school yet. There’s nothing personal about the place.”

“Give it time.” She glanced back at me once more. “I’m certain the students will break it in, soon enough.” Progress was a little slower as she climbed the stairs to the next floor. This was the technical wing of the school, handling drafting, computers, and accounting, while automotive and shop was on the first floor. I almost stumbled into her as she stopped to open her classroom door. She steadied me and guided me ahead of her. “Take a seat, you’ve got about half an hour before class starts.” She paused, “What’s your name?”

“Max Amon,” I replied.

“I’m Ms. Tanas. Have a seat, Max.”

I found a desk for myself near the middle of the class, then slumped back into my seat and rubbed my temples as I tucked my duffle bag under the desk. The buzzing in my head was a cacophony – now _ there _was a word I never thought I’d use – and the pain was making my vision blur. Little dots and lines of light were filling my vision, making it hard to focus, and I soon found myself resting my forehead on my desk, letting the cool plastic ease some of the pain. I hoped closing my eyes would help, but I was more worried about having a migraine on the first day of school.

Those lines and spots didn’t go away once my eyes had closed. Instead, they stood out in stark relief as blue-white shapes that flowed and drifted in the darkness. At first, they were just jumbles, forms without any reason, but as I watched, they began to develop depth and contour, creating patterns I could _ almost _identify.

A girl’s voice distracted me. _ “ _Hey. Partied too hard last night?” I half-expected it to be nothing as I opened my eyes, but there she was: a girl sitting in the seat beside me, causing me to blink and sit up hard in surprise. My knees banged the underside of the desk, and I hissed with pain, then rubbed my knees, blushing a moment before looking over at her again. I glanced around, noticing a large number of students watching me, and I rubbed the back of my neck, even more embarrassed now as I gave a weak smile.

The girl had olive skin and wavy black hair tied back into a braid, with eyes the colour of dark cocoa. She wore faded jeans and a black t-shirt with "your mother warned you about me" printed in cracking aqua paint. An actual girl – a pretty one – had talked to me, and I’d acted like a total klutz. I felt like sliding under my desk.

“Uh, no, I... I don’t know,” I mumbled. “I’ve got a splitting headache and I don’t know why.” I wrenched my eyes away from her and glanced at the teacher – Ms. Tanas, she’d said – who was looking downright worried. I tried to focus, but my mind was racing, like my brain was full of too many thoughts. It felt like someone had just flicked a switch in my head, and now my brain had shifted into a higher gear. The headache was there, the fugue as well, but I found myself becoming more _ aware _. It would almost be pleasant... if the pain ever went away. “I’m sure I can power through it,” I added, hoping that saying so would make it true.

The girl quirked up her mouth. “Well. Sit down if you think you might fall over. Less distance to fall. And if you think you’ve got to lie down, just say, ‘Vanessa’s going to take me to the nurse’s office’.” She paused. “Vanessa being me.”

I blinked, then blushed, realizing I’d not asked. “Max. Sorry if I seem a little… a lot out of it today, it seems things are just going pear-shaped right now.” I could feel the other kids in the class staring at me.

Vanessa just kept her attention on me. “You’re new around here, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. I moved here just recently, so I’m just learning the area now.”

She nodded. “I can tell by your accent. Where are you from?”

_ I have an accent? _ I wondered what it sounded like. I tried to get the spots out of my eyes, shaking my head slightly. “Vancouver. Then moved to Winnipeg, back over to Edmonton, up to Red Deer, over to Banff, out to Victoria, over to North Bay, then over to Fredrickton, up to St. John’s, down to Regina, then to Saskatoon, then to Calgary, and now here.” I made a vague motion of the room as if encompassing everything I couldn’t see. “Trois Portes.”

Her eyes had widened as I listed off all the places. “Are you, like, running from the law?” she asked, leaning forward. “Are the RCMP going to bust into the classroom and drag you away?”

I had a brief mental image of cartoon mounties kicking open the door, pointing at me, and shouting _ get him! _ “No, nothing like that. Mom’s just had some trouble holding down a job, is all.” Now, admittedly, that’s what she kept telling _ me _, but now I was wondering if that was actually true.

She grinned. “I’m just teasing, Max.” She gave my shoulder a playful tap, and for a moment I felt… strange. There was a tiny thrill at that touch, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. “Aww, and you’re blushing! That’s adorable.” I sank in my seat as she ripped a piece of paper out of her binder and scribbled something on it. “Hey, here’s my cell number, what’s yours?”

Now I just wanted to die. I was praying for lightning to burst in through the window and strike me _ dead _. “I… don’t have a cellphone. Honest, my mom’s stuck in the Dark Ages.” Vanessa raised her eyebrows, and I continued, hoping I wasn’t babbling like an idiot. “Really, you should see my house. I swear we’d have a wood stove if she thought she could get away with it. We don’t even have a television. Who doesn’t have a TV?”

Vanessa scoffed, but it didn’t sound like it was at me. “What, seriously?” She smiled as I nodded. I found myself relaxing. She wasn’t treating me like a terminally uncool freak like at the other schools I’d been to.

“Nah, she’s got this weird aversion to tech, and I don’t know why.” I shrugged, then glanced around the classroom once more. Apparently, talking with someone helped make the pain fade. The blue lines and sparks behind my eyelids were still there, but there seemed to be a pattern to them now. I wasn’t understanding what I was seeing, but the fugue was fading away.

She mimicked my shrug, before turning back to her books. I caught her glancing at me out of the corner of her eye, and noticed a subtle, coy smile as she tucked a lock of hair behind one ear to show off her neck. I couldn’t help but blush at that, then turned to look ahead, noticing on the board that the teacher had written “Ms. Rachel Tanas”, and below that, “Law 10”.

**Day 1 - Ryu Alvarez**

Most of my experience with high school had come from TV and movies, and according to those, gym class always sucked.

It’d be okay if it was like the gym at home, where I could push my limits and get pointers from people who wouldn’t freak out about how strong and fast I was. But the boss-man had said I should try not to stick out too much, and, well, being chosen for a mission was pretty cool. I didn’t want to screw this up. I already stuck out a little bit, being not only non-white but an ethnic mix nobody could pin down.

My sister said that in the place where we were raised, one of the things they taught us was how to hide our abilities in public. Too bad I couldn’t remember it.

I sat down on one of the new fiberglass benches, right beside where someone had already scrawled their initials in permanent marker, and started to change while keeping half an eye on the reason I was here: Max Amon. They’d made sure I’d be in some of his classes. I’d spotted him earlier, walking around in a daze like a stoner, but his expression – with his eyes going weirdly in and out of focus – wasn’t like any drug trip I’d seen. Also, I’d managed to brush past him and inhale while the guys were all shoving their way into the changeroom, and I hadn’t smelled any unusual substances on him.

Guy was pretty cute, actually. Dirty blond hair with a bit of curl to it, puppy-dog eyes… he looked like he could get cast as the sweet, nerdy best friend in a teen comedy. With most of his clothes off, I could see his build wasn’t bad, either. Couldn’t see him pumping iron, but maybe he swam?

The poor guy was self-conscious as he changed, glancing around from time to time, even as he tried to ignore everyone around him. He didn’t seem to have learned either protective camouflage or shield of confidence; his body language practically screamed “victim”. That, of course, attracts assholes.

And oh look, here was an asshole now: tall kid, solid build like a football player, copper hair in a brush cut like he was an army brat or something. He had one of those complexions that was mostly freckle, and large meaty-looking hands. There were three other guys flanking him, but he was clearly the one in charge. Now that I thought of it, I’d overheard a bit of their conversation, and they’d called him Travis.

Max’s back was turned as he finally put on some gym shorts. Just as he was about to sit down, Travis gave him a hard shove in the back. Max’s hand shot out quickly, catching the locker in front of him with surprising speed. A few students bailed while pretending to ignore the impending fight, while most of them hung back to gawk. I got to my feet, but hesitated: they hadn’t given me much info about my target. Maybe he could hold his own after all?

“What makes you so special?” Travis had leaned in, a scowl making his face even uglier, his friends all coming up to block off any escape path.

“Huh?” Max just blinked like he’d spaced out again. He stood up carefully, holding his head with a slight groan, like something completely unrelated was giving him a headache.

Travis shoved Max against the lockers again, this time harder. “Don’t piss me off, geek.” Dude still looked clueless, and one of Travis’s buddies took a swing from Max’s blind spot. Amazingly, Max ducked without even looking at the incoming fist. The asshole’s hand slammed hard into the locker, cutting it open and causing him to swear in pain. Max looked genuinely surprised at that, like he hadn’t even known what he was doing, but he caught on quick. He ducked out through the opening caused by the guy’s distraction.

Okay. Max obviously had great instincts for avoiding a fight, but these guys were still between him and the door to the gym. He couldn’t run around in here all day, and I had a feeling he had no idea how to take a hit. Boss had said “try not to attract undue attention”, but he’d also said “get close to him if you can”.

Also, I fucking hate bullies.

I moved between Max and the other four. I was still in my underwear, but whatever. I bent my knees a little, but didn’t take any obvious fighting stance; I just tilted my head and looked at Travis like it wouldn’t even be worth my time to wipe the walls with him. “The fuck’s _ your _problem?”

Asshole just blinked. “Huh?”

“First day and you’re already startin’ shit?” I pressed. “You tryin’ to do some ‘establishing primate pecking order’ thing?” Was that too much? What did normal kids get taught at this level?

I couldn’t tell if Travis had any idea what I was talking about, but he didn’t like my tone. The other two guys were waiting for some sort of signal, while the last was sucking blood off his knuckles and looking to be in real pain.

“Fuck off, freak. S’none of your business,” Travis snapped. Max muttered something that sounded like “Language”. Did he have no survival skills whatsoever?

I snorted. “Oh, ‘scuse _ me, _monkeyboy. I just don’t feel like participating in one of those prison movie scenes while I’m still just a young offender.”

Two red spots appeared on Travis’s cheeks. “You can shut the fuck up.”

Max interjected, “Language.” Like, _ seriously? _

Travis stabbed a finger at Max. “Shut your mouth, you little shit, or I’ll kick your ass. I mean it.”

“Wow, maybe you should bring in three _ more _of your buddies to back you up.” Like I said, I fucking hate bullies. “Just to make you feel, y’know, more secure.”

Travis growled, “You can go fuck yourself.”

“You can go lick a dog’s ass ‘till it bleeds.” I’d read that line in a book, and thought it was both gross and hilarious.

_ “Eww!” _ Apparently, Max had a vivid imagination. I couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction.

That laughter pissed Travis off, and he lunged forward, ham-fist up to drive into my face. As far as I was concerned, he could have been moving in slow motion. I brushed aside his arm with one hand, grabbed his shoulder with the other, and used some of his own momentum to yank him downwards. My first thought had been to smash him in the face, but I managed to change strategies; I let go of his shoulder as I raised my knee and brought it up hard into his sternum. That flung him backwards. He tried to pull himself up, then just gave a pained breath and collapsed like a sack of potatoes.

His three buddies stumbled backwards in shock. I did one of those “bring it” gestures from kung-fu movies. “Anyone else want some?”

Travis began picking himself up slowly and carefully as the others retreated, all the while shooting Max a venomous glare. He stumbled to the gym, punching open the door as he left, his companions following and glancing at me nervously.

I plunked myself down on the bench and began tugging on my gym pants. “Hey. Y’okay?”

Max took a breath as he finished changing for class. “Yeah. Um, thanks.”

I grinned in spite of myself. That had felt good, if one-sided. “No problem, eh? Buddy there needed to be taken down a notch. I’m Ryu.”

“I’m Max. Hi.”

As I pushed open the gym door, I told him, “Look, if Travis gives you any more trouble, you let me know, eh? I’ll kick his ass.”

He frowned a bit. “Language.”

I cracked up.

**Day 1 - Maxwell**

Today was _ definitely _a day of firsts. Phys-Ed usually left me miserable and winded, and other kids tended to be either trying just as hard as I was to be ignored or busy competing with each other. This time, not only did I feel like I could keep up, but I had a companion. Ryu had a mouth on him, but I found I really liked the guy, and the class had been more fun than I’d expected, the thing with Travis aside. I cringed when I found out I had Math next, but felt a bit better once I found out Ryu was in it too.

“Side-by-each?” Ryu asked with an exaggerated Québecois accent.

“Huh?” It took me a moment to figure out he was talking about seats. “Oh, sure.”

I picked a desk near the middle again, and Ryu grabbed one beside mine. I felt a low level of dread as I sank down in my seat and waited for class to begin. Ryu noticed and leaned over. “S’up?”

“I hate math.” Anything outside of normal multiplication and division was way beyond me. I’d never stayed in a class long enough to really understand any of it. If it was algebra or trig, it might as well have been an alien language. Since there was no avoiding it, I sighed and opened the textbook, hoping an early start would help. Instead of a jumble of words and numbers, the text staring up at me looked pretty easy. I frowned, opened my notepad, and began writing out the answers to each question. I could almost see the numbers and symbols in my head, and everything else seemed to fade out. It was only when the teacher called my name that I looked up.

She was searching the room, so I raised a hand. “Here.” The teacher looked at me from over her glasses, then nodded and continued attendance. I let out a breath, then looked down to see I’d already filled out two pages.

Ryu was watching me, eyebrows raised. “Holy shit, dude. Math geek much? Not saying that’s bad,” he quickly amended.

I winced. Over the last ten years or so, I’d lived a fairly sheltered life. No TV, no radio, and while mom had taken me to the movies once in awhile, she insisted that there be no swearing in her house. It had been drilled into me from childhood, so the language Ryu used made me nervous. “Language.” Ryu rolled his eyes, and I shook my head. “No.” I clarified, “I _ hate _math. I mean, I thought I did?”

For the rest of the class, the teacher laid out the basics for algebra and geometry, and while she did, I flipped through the textbook, looking at the problems while my pen ran across my notebook and I wrote out the answers. The problems seemed easy. Just too easy.

“Mr. Amon! Are you paying attention?”

I snapped my head up, “Yes, Mrs. Cadieu!”

She didn’t look convinced, and indicated the rhomboid she’d drawn on the white board. “Can you answer this for me then?” she asked. I winced as I looked it over, and wanted to kick myself for zoning out again. Ryu quietly sing-songed, “Bussss-ted.”

I sighed, then looked at the shape. After a second, I realized I knew the answer. “A and B are 45 cm in length, C and D are 70 cm in length. The inner angle of BD is 40 degrees, making BC…” it was all becoming clear as I rattled off the numbers, laying out the angles or each corner, the area, the perimeter. It was… _ easy. _

The teacher seemed at once impressed and annoyed. “Very good, Mr. Amon.”

“But you totally hate math,” Ryu deadpanned.

I couldn’t help but smile. “Not anymore.” I turned to the next page in the book and began writing once more, the numbers and shapes coming to me, the problems and descriptions making more and more sense. The class blew by faster than I would have ever imagined, and I was glad that my head was no longer pounding. The strange, blue-white lights were still there, but the constant buzz was now just a faint drone. When the bell rang, I started a bit.

Ryu had already folded up his books, clearly impatient to be elsewhere. “Lunch, finally. I hope they serve actual food here.”

The cafeteria was divided into two sections. The larger area was more of a hall filled with foldable tables and plastic chairs that connected with the cafeteria itself. This area allowed students to gather in large groups, and the tables and chairs could be cleared out to open up the space. To one side was a smaller, carpeted section with some circular tables scattered about, and a staircase which led up to the top of the theatre area and assembly hall. As soon as I’d bought my hamburger and pop, I instinctively headed for that smaller area.

“Oh, hey! Mind if I sit?” I hadn’t even noticed Vanessa come up, and now all I could do was blink stupidly at her. She gave me an amused smile, then took a chair and joined me before I could even find a response. I stared as she opened up her backpack and pulled out a cloth lunchbag with a dragonfly pattern.

“Sure,” I finally let out, and she laughed.

“So… it’s not bad,” said Ryu. He used one foot to pull out a chair and plunked down a tray laden with meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and gravy.

Vanessa lifted her eyebrows. “I hope it’s not bad – you’ve got enough there for two people. Maybe three.”

Ryu sat down, patting his washboard stomach. “Gotta take care of the baby, y’know.” As Vanessa snorted, he glanced at me at jerked his head at her in a questioning way.

“Right. Ryu, this is Vanessa – we talked a bit in homeroom. And Vanessa, Ryu, he… kind of saved my butt earlier. In Phys-Ed.”

She gave him a bit of a once-over. Ryu was a little bit shorter than me, but had a really striking appearance: brown skin, amber-coloured eyes with a slight Asian cast, spiky mahogany-red hair, and obvious muscle. He seemed generally cool – some of that was the ripped jeans and the t-shirt printed with a Mexican lady in skull makeup, but I think a lot of it was just his confident swagger.

Ryu just shrugged. “Asshole wanted to start some shit. I stopped him. No big.” He gestured at me with his fork. “This guy, though? He can _ move _. One of Travis’s buddies tried to hit him, got the locker instead. Fucked up his hand.”

I was so relieved at not having to tell the whole nerve-wracking story that I didn’t even call him on his cussing.

Vanessa tossed an empty yogurt cup into the closest recycle bin. “Oh, Travis. Yeah, he’s a jerk.” She glanced back and forth between us. “You could still get in trouble for fighting, though. Teachers don’t always listen, or care, about who started what.”

Ryu leaned back in his chair, chewing, and gave Vanessa an appraising look. “You look like you could kick some ass, yourself.”

That was true, now that I thought about it. Vanessa’s shirt was loose, but it wasn’t very long, and it was riding up a bit. Her midriff looked like that of someone who worked out. The skin there was probably soft, though. She caught my look, and I quickly turned my attention back to my meal. She addressed Ryu, but took the time to tuck her hair behind her ear on my side, showing off her neck again. “That’s not the point at all,” she replied, then began licking her spoon clean, and I couldn’t help but watch her tongue work.

_ Is she doing that on purpose? _

“Um. Hey.” I changed the subject. “Would you two like to come over to my place after school? We could… hang out? Though…” I faltered. “I honestly have no idea what we could do there.” I looked down as I realized just how little I had to offer.

“I could share my Steam library with you...” Vanessa started brightly, then checked herself. “...Oh, right. No computer.”

Ryu scraped up the last bit of potatoes and gravy. The guy had just about inhaled his food. “What?”

Vanessa flashed me a sympathetic grimace. To Ryu, she explained, “His mom’s kind of a Luddite.”

I sighed. “Yeah. No computer. My mom believes that civilization should have stopped with fire, and that anything beyond is a sign of the decline of civilization.”

“Ugh!” Ryu grunted, cave-man style. “Me no trust fire. Eat food raw! And like it!”

I couldn’t help but chuckle, and Vanessa got into the game. “Why, back in _ my _day,” she drawled, “We didn’t have water. We had to take our own hydrogen and oxygen atoms and bang ‘em together.” Ryu burst out laughing, and I covered my mouth, hoping my amusement didn’t make me look goofy.

“Wow, dude,” Ryu said, recovering. “I’ve heard of people being all, ‘I don’t watch TV ‘cause it rots the brain’, but computers are, like, essential now.”

I shook my head, “No TV. No radio. No cellphones.”

Ryu snatched up the pickle I’d taken out of my burger. “There’s a mall. We could hang out there and pretend we have money.”

Vanessa interjected, “We could catch a movie. There’s the new superplex they put up behind the Tremblay shopping centre.” I hesitated, and her eyes widened. “Let me guess, you’ve never been to the movies?”

I was about to protest, but Ryu interrupted. “No problem. Shit, man, I’ve snuck into movies all the time. I’ll show you how!”

“Language.” It came out automatically, and Vanessa grinned at me and stuck out her tongue. _ She’s got a cute tongue _ . I paused. _ Okay, that was a strange thought. _

“What_ ev _er!” Ryu rolled his eyes. “Anyway, movies. I’m cool with that.”

Vanessa pulled out her phone and started looking through the cineplex schedules. I sighed a little and started digging through my duffle bag, mostly for something to do with my hands. I felt my hand brush something, and pulled out my letter. I paused, looking at it, turning it over while Ryu and Vanessa debated which film to see. I tested it, feeling the weight, then lifted it up to the light to peek.

“What’s that?” Ryu asked.

“A letter,” I replied. “This is my first letter. I don’t even know who it’s from.” I stripped it from the side, tearing it carefully so as not to damage anything inside. It took a few shakes, but a silver plastic card slipped out of the envelope and into my hand. I examined it in surprise, noticing the chip on one end, and that it was marked “Maxwell D. Amon” in gold lettering. It had a string of numbers embossed along the middle, and a holographic pattern of a building I couldn’t identify.

Ryu eyed it. “A credit card?”

Vanessa made a rueful face. “It’s junk mail. My dad always says that if you randomly get a credit card in the mail, it’s some outfit wanting to put you in debt.”

I set it down on the table, then carefully shook out the letter. When I unfolded it, I noticed it had the same silver ink as on the envelope. The handwriting was pretty, with long, flowing strokes.

_ Dear Maxwell David Amon: _

_ I hope this letter finds you well. Spring is just beginning here in Sydney, and if I’m not mistaken, you’ve just turned fifteen. I know you’ve never met me, but then I’ve been a little busy with work, and haven’t had the chance to come to Canada and visit you. I used to keep in touch with your mother, but that seems to have become more difficult in the last ten years or so. It was only by luck I was able to find out how you are doing. _

_ Recently, I’ve come into quite a bit of money, and I’ve felt somewhat negligent in paying attention to my favourite nephew. Since you’re probably just starting high school, I had an account opened for you in one of the local banks I have some stock in. You should have more than enough money to cover any of your needs, and if you are anything like me, I’m certain you’ll find a use for it. I’ll be giving you an allowance of one thousand Canadian dollars a week. Have fun! _

_ Your favourite aunt, T. _

I skimmed the letter twice, my brain seizing up as it tried to comprehend what it said. I scanned it a third time, as Ryu leaned over to read it over my shoulder. He made a low “whoo” noise. “Dude, auntie must seriously love you. Or something.”

“ …or something.” I echoed weakly. I looked down at the credit card sitting in my lap as I slowly folded the letter. I tucked it ever-so-carefully back into the envelope, then slid that back into my duffle bag. Once that was done, I picked up the credit card and studied it. The holographic logo flashed on the surface, and I looked up at my friends, somewhat stunned. “Um. That movie? I guess it’s on me?”

Vanessa frowned. “What did it say?”

I leaned forward and took a deep breath, remembering to keep my voice low. “My long-lost aunt in Australia misses me and just gave me more money than I ever knew existed.” I tucked the card into my pocket, _ deep _.

Vanessa’s mouth dropped open. “You know, when I asked you earlier whether your family was on the run from the law, I was joking. Do you know this aunt? What she does?”

I shook my head. “I didn’t even know I had an aunt.”

“Just…” She gestured at the letter. “What if that’s, you know, ill-gotten gains?”

“What’s he supposed to do if it is?” Ryu asked, just before the bell rang.

_ A thousand? Every _ ** _week_ ** _ ? _

I tried to process that. The rest of the school day was just a blur – the headache was completely gone, but the spots and lines behind my eyes were still there. The letter made me feel numb. A ‘long-lost aunt’? Was my mom trying to hide from her? If she was in Sydney, is that why we’d moved back east? Why did she just decide to give me so much money? Was it a joke? I had no idea what to do with that much money, I didn’t even get an _ allowance _, and mom kept all her money in a pillowcase in her closet. I felt like a tonne of responsibility had just been dropped in my lap, and I suddenly had a lot of questions I was certain I wasn’t going to like the answer to.

**Day 1 - Vanessa McCormick**

We found Max staring into his locker after school. I really had no idea what he could be thinking, but I approached and waved a hand in his line of sight, drawing him out of his reverie. Through the day, I’d seen him blank out for seconds at a time, but this was not his usual fugue state; he looked like there was a lot on his mind. He blinked as he focused on me with those odd blue eyes.

“Oh, hi, sorry.”

I tucked my hair behind my ear and gave him a friendly smile. “Are we still up for that movie?” I asked. “I’m expecting popcorn and a drink, if you’re buying.” I kept my tone light, trying to keep him at ease and let him know I was joking.

I heard a little scoff from behind me. “I dunno, man, can he afford it?” At Max’s pained expression, Ryu sobered. “Uh, sorry.”

Max smiled weakly. “Yeah, sure. On me.”

“In all seriousness,” I hurried to add, “you don’t have to. If you’re still trying to figure all this out…”

He shook his head. “It’s okay. Honestly? I think I could use the distraction.”

I waited for Max to finish closing up his locker, which was tidy and undecorated. I’d already put up a magnetic whiteboard, lemongrass sachet, and some of my friend’s fanart. I decided Max needed to get out and see the world more.

Max glanced around. “I need to head home, let mom know what I’m doing.”

“Can’t you just call her?” I asked.

Ryu and Max answered almost in unison, “No phone.” Ryu added, “Mine broke.”

“Luddites,” I replied. “Let’s go then.”

I admit, I was a little startled to find out Max lived in a trailer park. I mean, the park itself was nice, with rows of trailer homes, small gardens in the front and sides, but it all seemed so cramped. Ryu and I waited outside, me checking my phone messages, while he went in to talk with his mom.

After a few minutes, he came out, looking more distressed.

“Did she say no?”

“No, no, that’s fine. She said I could go. Even invited you both over for dinner later.” He seemed uncertain.

“Sooo… that’s cool, right?” Ryu peered at Max. “She’s not forbidding you from human contact?”

“So what’s wrong?” Max’s lack of enthusiasm had made me feel a little disappointed, but if something _ was _wrong, I didn’t want to make it all about me. I had my phone ready to call my parents, but wanted to know what was going on first.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Mom’s being weird. She said my _ aunt _is having some things delivered for me, and mom… she wasn’t happy about it. She didn’t seem exactly surprised, more like… resigned.” He gave my phone a glance… then crumpled.

“Shit!” Ryu stepped up with astonishing quickness and caught him just as his eyes rolled back in his head. Max was limp, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. As Ryu eased him down onto the porch, I patted his cheek, hoping to wake him up. “Max? _ Max? _ Are you okay?”

He blinked, disoriented, and I felt a surge of relief.

“Hey. What happened?” Ryu asked, helping Max to sit up.

“I don’t know. I… saw things. Heard voices. A sea of shapes…” His voice was hollow, distant, his eyes were out of focus.

Ryu cut him off. “Dude. You _ passed out. _” He made sure Max was steady. “D’you want to take a rain check?”

Max shook his head. “No...”

I interrupted. “I think you should. You’ve been out of it all day. Go back inside and get some rest.” I smiled, but kept firm. “Your mom’s upset, you’re not feeling well, and you just fainted.” I made my tone more gentle. “We can do this another time.” I noticed a look of relief from Ryu, maybe more than just friendly concern, and wondered about that. I took Max’s hand and gave it a squeeze, smiling a little more as he squeezed back. I had to admit, it felt nice. “But you owe me. Us. You owe us.”

“Tomorrow, I promise,” Max reluctantly agreed.

**Day 1 - Maxwell**

The beige-and-chestnut trailer I called home was at the end of the street, and I sat on the front steps, watching Vanessa and Ryu as they left the trailer park. I slumped, then leaned back against the door, looking at the single and double-homes spread out along the street. Mom had decided to get a simpler model, with a small patch of grass at the front that could arguably be called a lawn. There was a simple wooden staircase that went up to the front door, and nothing at the back door, meaning you had to jump down to get out.

I finally pulled myself up and went inside. To my right and past the door was the living room: small but functional, and mostly empty. There was a single grey, ragged couch that could sit two, and a pair of TV trays open in front of it. I found it funny that we had TV trays, but no TV.

In front of me was the dining room, which consisted of an old poker table that was slightly bent, and a pair of foldable metal chairs. The kitchen was separated from the dining room by a counter and cupboards, with an opening to pass things through from one side to the other. There was a fridge and stove, but no dishwasher, though there was space for one.

I slid my shoes off with my heels and kicked them to one side, then parked my duffle bag on the floor by the table. I passed the kitchen into the hallway to my left. The tiny bathroom was on my right, and there was space for a washer and dryer, though mom hadn’t bought any yet. We’d been washing our clothes in the shower.

I walked past them, where the hall opened up. To the right was my mother’s room and the spare bedroom. The spare bedroom was empty. To my left was the back door, closed and locked, while at the end of the hall was the master bedroom, closed at the moment. That was my room; mom insisted, though I really hadn’t seen much of a point to it. I had my bed, desk, and lamp, and a wind-up alarm clock, and really that was all I owned except for my clothes and a few books.

I always felt like I was trapped in some parallel dimension any time I came home. I had never gotten used to calling any one place home, and I was certain my place was the only one missing so many things people took for granted. No microwave, dishwasher, laundry machine, radio, television… not even a telephone.

I knocked on my mom’s bedroom door. “Mom? I’m not going out.” It took her a few moments to open the door. She looked pale and more than a little worried.

“Max? I thought you went to the movies with your friends.” The tone of her voice worried me: she sounded sad and alone and tired all at once. I gave her a hug, and she gripped me tight, her arms shaking.

“Not tonight. Tomorrow, maybe. It sounds like you need the company.” I looked her over, studying her carefully. “Talk to me, okay?”

“You’ve always been a good kid, Max. I’ll be okay.” She sighed a little, then added, “We’ll talk about it, but not tonight, please?” There was a hint of desperation in her voice.

Even though I still wanted to know what was up, I relented. “Alright, want me to make supper?”

She shook her head again. “No, no. You just sit down and get to work on your homework, and I’ll get the food on.” She walked past me and down the hall, and I began following her, wondering when she’s suddenly gotten so _ old _. It felt like the energy had been drained from her all at once.

I trailed along. “Homework’s already finished.”

She stopped and looked back at me. “Since when did you do your homework without needing me to get on your case?” she asked, sounding a little more like her usual self. I shrugged, and she continued, “I’m going to want to see it.” She turned and headed for the kitchen.

Okay, I really needed to bring up that whole thing with the letter. I bit my lip and rubbed the back of my neck as I bounced it around in my head, trying to find the best way to approach this while she pulled out a saucepan and filled it with water.

“So… Aunt ‘T’ sent me a letter. I got it in the mail this morning.”

Mom put down the saucepan. “Oh.”

“She gave me a credit card.”

“Oh.”

“She said she’s in Australia. I didn’t even know I had an aunt.”

“Oh.” She turned quickly away and opened a cupboard.

“Mom…”

“Max…” She set down some plastic plates she’d pulled from the cupboard, then closed the cupboard doors carefully. “Max… I can’t…” The last word came out kind of squeaky, like she was fighting back tears.

I got up and went over to her. “Mom?”

“Can you be my boy for just one more day? Please?” She hugged me tightly and rested her head against my shoulder, her face hot. “Just for today?”

I put my arms around her, a little awkwardly. I wasn’t used to being so tall, and I definitely wasn’t used to having to comfort her. “Of… of course, mom. I’ll always be your boy.”

What else would I be?


	2. Chapter 2

**Thursday**

_ “How are you feeling?” I asked. _

_ I was looking Max over, drifting in his field of view. I kept the area dark and everything muted for the boy’s comfort. The fewer distractions he had during these visits, I felt, the better. He looked around, and I could feel him reaching out, probing for the things he could just barely sense. I couldn’t help but feel proud that he’d come this far in only a day. _

_ He turned back. “It hurt. My head hurt, my eyes hurt. I kept hearing things.” _

_ I reached out and stroked his cheek, feeling more than a little guilty. “I’m sorry, Max. I said it wouldn’t hurt – I didn’t think it would. Forgive me?” He looked at me in a way he hadn’t before, as if he saw something he’d somehow missed. “I know you’ll adjust quickly. The changes will be over really soon.” I smiled gently, before meeting his gaze. “How are you feeling, though? Happy? Angry? This is important – I need to know.” _

_ “Confused. I have an aunt I never knew about before. I suddenly have money. My mom’s crying. I don’t know what to do... everything’s changing.” _

_ I wanted to reply, but he was gone. _

**Day 2 - Maxwell**

The alarm clock startled me awake, bells clashing loudly and causing me to clutch my head and groan in pain. It felt like needles were digging into my skull – mostly behind my eyes – and I wondered if I needed glasses. I reached out, fumbling for the clock, and slammed its pressure plate. “Okay, okay!” Any dreams I had fled with the ringing in my ears.

I sat up slowly, pushing the blankets off, and noticed that the blue-white lines and spots in my vision were muted, though still present. As I rubbed my eyes, I noticed that with them closed, those patterns were much crisper and clearer. The lines gave me the contour of my room: a distinct pattern which laid out the walls and my desk. The alarm clock was clearer, filled with tiny gears and springs on the inside. Bright veins of power traced through the house from the wall sockets, while more subtle lines snaked out from the light switch to my desk lamp.

I opened my eyes slowly, and the lines and spots lined up perfectly. I turned my head one way, then the other, and the patterns remained fixed, defining my room, while being less distinct about my bed and desk, as if they were somehow _ wrong _ in my vision. My eyes shifted focus somehow, and it took me a few moments to realize that my sight extended out behind me as well. My normal eyesight ended with my peripheral vision, but these other senses continued, giving me a spherical map of the room. I remembered the fight in the locker room. I’d ducked when one of the guys threw a punch at me; not because I’d seen the punch coming, but because I’d _ sensed _something. I remembered now: he’d had a watch on, and I had perceived it, which let me duck out of instinct.

“No wonder I had a headache,” I muttered to myself. It made no sense at all, but I tried to cope with what my senses were telling me. I closed my eyes once more, tracing out the shape of my room. I could sort of see the shape of the bed I was in, but not the covers. I turned my head and faced the alarm clock, and saw the tiny gears move inside, counting the seconds, minutes, and hours. It was strangely fascinating, and I spent a few moments watching how the clock worked. If I had to guess, I could have seen all of this yesterday, but wasn’t able to process the information coming in. That _ crispness _of mind I had begun to feel yesterday was still there, as if I’d just become an information sponge, and my brain was learning how to deal with the sudden influx of information. I took a quiet breath as I studied everything. This sense wasn’t limited to my room: the trailer was laid out for me, defined by the faint borders which laid out the walls, the floor, and the ceiling. The furniture was faint, but present. The stove and fridge were bright, but the shower, sink, and toilet were dull except around the faucets and the mechanisms. It seemed that moving parts were better-defined than things designed to be stationary.

Once I’d grown accustomed to seeing the trailer I lived in, my senses seemed to shift scope, and the nearby trailers grew much brighter. I could pick out electronic devices: cell phones, watches, computers. Anything that had energy within it gave me a stronger impression than anything else. The trailer park was gradually being laid out for me, defined by machines and the local infrastructure. At first it was a confusion of overlapping lines, but as I watched, my sight shifted in focus, creating a subtle sort of gradient that helped me discern what things were and how far away they were. Something soft and simple like my blanket had almost no presence in this strange new world. Hard objects like my bed and the walls were given a subtle shift in brightness, mostly along the edges. Things with moving parts were a touch brighter, such as the hinges on my door, while all the electronics were brightest, and I could see their inner workings clearly. Distance didn’t impede my perception; I could pick up a cellphone six blocks away as clearly as if it were the alarm clock right in front of me.

I noticed a distinct lack of _ people _in this vision. The devices they were carrying were present, but the people themselves were invisible. I couldn’t sense animals either… except for the microchip in some pet prowling outside. There were no plants in my vision either, but the machines that were all around stood out in varying shades of blue and white on a black field.

_ “...and I have no privacyyyyyyy, whoah-oh-oh. I always feel like somebody’s watching meeeeeeee!” _

The music came flooding in and staggered me. I looked around my room quickly as the music faded away. Clearly I didn’t have complete control over what I picked up. I chewed on my lip, decided I was going to skip the terror of a morning shower, and simply got dressed. School wasn’t for another hour, and while part of me wanted to stay home, I didn’t think I could really explain why to my mom. I headed into the kitchen, and noticed a note from her, saying she’d gone out for the morning. I frowned at the note, and reached for the fridge door.

It opened before I could touch it, startling me and making me yelp. I turned and _ stared _ at the fridge, half-wondering if something inside was going to leap out and attack, but nothing happened. I carefully reached in and grabbed an apple, then stepped back. Nothing happened. I hesitantly reached out and pushed the edge of the fridge door, making it close with the usual _ thump _.

_ How are you feeling? This is important. _

“Scared.” I looked around the trailer, my strange vision still spreading, mapping out the entire park and going beyond it. My head throbbed slightly from the information coming in, and I rested my forehead on the counter, letting the cool plastic help ease my burning thoughts. It was like my brain had switched to a higher, faster gear, and was starved for information. I took a deep breath.

“Exhilarated.” That was a word I’d never used before. A part of me was excited, going over every new thing I could sense. The street lamps were all waiting for the sun to set, drawing in solar energy from the collectors on top of them. Car engines waited to start, filled with chemicals and electronics made to regulate all the moving parts. So many people had radios on, or were watching television. It was all so _ cool _, and I felt myself getting drawn into this new environment.

I turned and stumbled to my duffle bag. I grabbed it and headed out, hearing the _ click _as the door locked behind me before I could even get to my keys. I stopped and studied the door for a few moments, then quickly hopped down to the ground and headed to school, promising myself I’d get something to eat on the way there.

Outside, the streets were laid bare in lines of blue and white. It reminded me of an x-ray overlapping the physical world. It stretched out for blocks, going beyond my vision, shapes and patterns filling my mind as people went about their business and the various machines they carried shifted and swayed. The cars driving down the roads, the stop lights timed to keep traffic flowing, and even a plane flying overhead – all of them seen and recorded by my sight. The city was _ alive _, and it seemed to move and breathe in a way that I had never noticed before. I rested against a lamppost for balance as I felt the technology around me, impossible to ignore now that I’d noticed it.

It was all making sense now. All this information had been bombarding me the day before, but I couldn’t comprehend it. It had all been coming to me at once: the shapes and patterns and movement that I had seen, but couldn’t understand. Now that I _ saw _it, now that I could comprehend it, realizing it was a three-dimensional shape and not just lines, the pain was finally subsiding. It was a sphere surrounding me, an awareness spreading out like a map of the city or a drafter’s blueprint.

I waited for the vertigo to subside, and assured myself school wasn’t _ that _far away. Once I was there, I could try talking to Ryu... and Vanessa. I felt a little thrill at her name; that gave me a fluttery feeling in my stomach, so I tried not to focus on it. I wondered what my new friends would think about all this. Should I try to explain it to them?

Everything on my route felt familiar, and I realized that on some level, I’d mentally mapped the area around me yesterday while I’d been preoccupied by that letter from my aunt. The crosswalk lights changed for me as I approached each corner, allowing me to head to school without stopping. Cars skidded to a halt at the sudden switch, and I could feel the programs making adjustments to try to get the timers back on track.

The school wasn’t much better: the amount of electronics in the area was staggering, and I went to the cafeteria and grabbed a yogurt cup and ginger ale before heading to the retreat I’d picked out for lunch the day before. The school was a cacophony of electronics: calculators, smartphones, music players, watches, and videogames all bobbed and wove through the school halls, while the LED lights overhead glowed brilliantly. The walls were filled with wires, and almost every classroom had computers.

“-x? Y’okay?”

I blinked and looked up to see Ryu waving a hand in front of my face. “Ground control to Major Tom.”

“Yeah, I’m here.” I pulled myself up and pushed Ryu’s hand away. “Remember I said yesterday was weird?”

“Uh-huh.” Ryu pulled up a chair across from me.

“Today’s got yesterday beat.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “It’s hard to explain.”

He sprawled in his chair, sliding his backpack off his shoulder and onto the floor with a dull _ thud _. “Yeah? I got time.”

I sipped my pop, trying to think of how best to explain everything. “Well, um... this is going to sound dumb at first.” Ryu smirked and I waved a hand to cut off any retort. “Okay, let’s see. You’ve got a video game in your backpack, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s a monster hunting game.”

Ryu raised his eyebrows. “Go on.”

I rubbed my temple with one hand. “Okay. You don’t have a cellphone.” I then looked over the cafeteria and spotted a small group of girls glancing my way as they talked to one another. I blushed as one caught my eye and waved, then waved back and turned my attention to Ryu. “Over there, see them?”

He followed my gaze, then grinned. “Ah, you finally noticed.”

I blinked. “Uh, what?”

He chuckled, and lightly bumped my upper arm with his fist. “My dude… a _ lot _ of people have been giving you thirsty looks.”

That wasn’t what I’d expected to hear. “Really? Wait, no. That’s not my point.” I took a short breath, then continued. “I count four watches, two smartphones. No, wait, I think four phones, one music player, a virtual pet, and a video game machine.” I turned and looked back at Ryu. “And a smattering of other things.” His expression was unreadable, which made me a little nervous.

“You picked up all of that?” he asked. I nodded, wary, but he didn’t look scared or skeptical; he just leaned forward and lowered his voice. “How?”

Keeping my own voice down, I gave a brief rundown of my morning, and my theory about the day before. Ryu listened to me with more seriousness than I would have guessed from him.

When I finished, a slow grin spread over his face. “Damn, son, you got _ superpowers _.”

I just stared at him for a moment, wondering how he’d been taking this so calmly, then realized _ I _was taking it much more rationally than I thought I would. This was outside of anything I’d thought possible, and here I was sitting in school with my friend, just chatting about it. I nodded once. “Yeah... I guess I do.”

The morning bell rang, and I sat up and looked around for Vanessa. I felt a twinge of disappointment at not seeing her. “I’ll see you in gym, okay?”

Ryu looked like he was studying me for a moment, then he smiled again. “Yeah, ‘course.”

As I walked off to homeroom, I wondered at how easily Ryu’d taken my condition. Not that I wasn’t relieved at him for not freaking out or scoffing at me, but now that I thought about it, he seemed a lot less surprised than he should have been. I made a mental note to ask about that later.

_ How are you feeling? _

The question kept popping up in my thoughts. “Good,” I admitted to myself. I entered class, and saw Vanessa at her desk, reading an e-book. I slipped into my seat beside her and gave a sheepish smile. “Morning. I was in the cafeteria, and I thought you’d have stopped by.” I felt myself blushing. “That sounded desperate.”

She laughed a bit. “Yeah, I saw you there, but you were daydreaming, and I thought I’d let you be. How are you feeling?” she asked as she powered down her reader and tucked it away.

I sighed a little and relaxed in my seat. “Today started out weird, but I think... it’ll be okay.” I scanned the classroom, then settled in and opened my duffle bag. “I’ll explain some of it later. I told Ryu, and he took it well, so I’m hoping to tell you, too.”

“Alright.” She tilted her head a bit. “So… how’s your mom?”

I went quiet for a few moments. “Weird. We’ve got some talking to do, I think.”

She nodded. “So… you still good for that movies plan?”

I was relieved at the change to a nicer subject. “Of course.” A sudden thought struck me, and I whispered, “Is this a _ date _?”

Vanessa smiled and did that cute hair-tuck thing again. I caught myself following the slope of her neck to her shoulder. She caught my reaction and glanced at me out of the corner of her eye as she turned to face her desk. “No, I don’t think so. Maybe this weekend? Without Ryu along,” she added. “He’s cute, but not my type.” After a moment, she whispered, “And maybe I don’t want a chaperone interrupting us.”

I could feel the blood rushing to my face – and other places, and tried to calm myself down. “Am... I?” I managed.

“Are you what?” There was a hint in her tone indicating she knew what I was asking.

“Your type,” I got out.

She shot me a coy look. “I think so. I think you’re almost anybody’s type.”

The sound of the classroom door closing caught my attention, and I turned to see Ms. Tanas walking into class. I watched her set her briefcase on the desk and sit down to take attendance.

Without even glancing at the clock, I knew I still had another fifteen minutes before class started. I paused, realizing that I’d instinctively picked that up from the school system’s time. I tried to make sense of all the different things that kept track of time, and how many were out of sync. The chaos was a mild irritation, and I leaned back and silently wished that everyone would just... pick a time. I felt a faint flicker, and my eyes snapped open.

Everything was now in sync. Each clock, each phone, each watch and timer and counter, was perfectly aligned.

Synchronized.

“Are you okay?” Vanessa whispered.

I quickly glanced around. “I think so. Actually, yes. I think I’m okay. I’ll try to explain later. Thanks, though.”

**Day 2 - Ryu**

“... and they all synced up.” Max finished.

I laughed. “Cool. So you can get the snack machines to give us free stuff?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? Probably.” Max frowned at me. “But I’d rather just pay for it.”

“Pshh, you’re no fun.” Joking around put him at ease, so I figured I’d keep using that.

Max shrugged. “I mean, sure, I could probably do all sorts of stuff – but that doesn’t mean I _ should _, you know?”

“You’re just made of nice.” Seriously, this guy. I couldn’t say that I’d be as principled upon gaining power over machines and a sudden influx of no-strings-attached money – no _ apparent _ strings, I reminded myself. It was actually nice to see these things fall into the lap of someone with a conscience. I hoped he could keep that conscience.

“So…” I kept my tone casual. “What else do you think you can do?” It was a risk to be nosy, but the Boss wanted info. 

“What, isn’t that enough?” he replied, but I could see the wheels spinning already.

I studied him out of the corner of my eye. We’d just done dodgeball, and while anyone might have expected him to take the opportunity to get revenge against Travis or his flunkies, Max had just focused on staying out of the way. When he’d been forced to make a throw, he completely sucked. Dude had no fighting instinct whatsoever.

Whatever powers he had weren’t going to stay hidden forever… especially not if he were naively open about it to anyone who was friendly with him. Some of those friendly people were bound to have hidden agendas.

Like I did.

Shit.

As he opened the door to math class, I noticed a thick notebook tucked under his arm, and jerked my chin at it. “What’s that?”

He beamed smugly. “It’s the entire coursebook. The whole year’s homework and then some. I finished it last night.”

“No shit?” I grinned as Max winced. His reaction to swear words was priceless, and I was going to milk that shit for all it was worth. “Whole thing. One night.”

“It just came to me. Seriously, until yesterday, I was... terrible at math. I don’t know what’s changed.”

I grunted thoughtfully. “A lot of tech geeks are math whizzes. Maybe it goes with.”

He nodded once. “Maybe. I’ll try to figure it out. But I’m really not complaining.”

I sat down and pretended to have my attention elsewhere as Max marched up to the front desk and triumphantly presented his work to the teacher. Her expression went from surprise to disbelief to outright disapproval as he explained what he’d done. Just as she was beginning to reply, though, a bunch of other kids came in, and even my enhanced hearing couldn’t pick out the words.

Max flopped into his seat, looking deflated. “She thinks I cheated.”

I sat up straighter. “What? How?”

“I don’t know.” He waved a hand vaguely, “Not like there’re answers in the book or anything. I told her I don’t have a computer at home, I don’t have a phone, I don’t even have a calculator. How the heck could I cheat? I showed all my work, like the book says to do. She didn’t have an answer, but told me she wasn’t going to count it.” For the first time since I’d met him, he actually looked _ angry _.

I cast about for a way to distract him. “That sucks, but, uh… maybe can you help me with mine?”

The glower melted off his face. “Sure!” He seemed genuinely pleased at the prospect of helping. Crisis averted.

Not so much, it turned out. A silent contest of wills had begun between Max and Mrs. Cadieu. Every time she asked for a student to do a question on the board, he shot his hand up... and she ignored him. When nobody else volunteered, she’d pick someone at random. The other kids were beginning to stare and murmur. A few of them were pulling out their phones and recording this – surreptitiously, as Mrs. Cadieu was one of the teachers who’d insisted that all devices be turned off and stowed in bags. I wondered how long it would be before Max broke her, or exploded in a cloud of polyhedrals or something.

Now I knew why my sister had advised me to aim for average scores in most of my classes. Part of it was not attracting attention to myself and my mission. But I could see now that while most teachers were genuinely pleased when a kid showed unusual promise, a few felt threatened by it.

It was similar to the way some people would feel threatened by me and my siblings, if they knew about us.

Finally Max stopped bothering to raise his hand. He just sat there, jaw clenched, looking like he might develop laser eye-beams and vaporize Mrs. Cadieu on the spot. Fuck, I _ hoped _ that wasn’t going to be part of his powerset. And less than an hour ago I’d been thinking the guy didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Just as I was racking my brains for some way to get his mind off this, a calculating smile spread over his face. I didn’t like the look of that, but all he did was race through the assigned work for today.

When the lunch bell rang I felt a surge of relief. That faded when, instead of leaving, Max made a beeline for the shelves at the back of the room and started picking out books. I was forced to tail after him like some asshole.

“What are you _ doing _?” I hissed, resisting the urge to grab his arm and drag him away.

“Mr. Amon! Mr. Alvarez! Class is _ dismissed _.” Mrs. Cadieu looked like she wanted some eye-lasers herself.

Max put one book back, then flipped through another, staring intently. “I’m going to do my homework for the next two years, and I’m going to hand it all in, tomorrow.” There was an edge in his tone that I really didn’t like. The analytical part of my brain noted that he must have developed speed-reading as one of his new abilities.

She folded her arms over her flowered blouse. “And what do you hope to accomplish?”

Max stopped, closed the book, then reshelved it. “You said I cheated. I’m going to show you I didn’t. I’ll finish the problems tonight and hand them in. All of them. Showing my work.” He turned and stared her in the eye. “Then I’m going to ask for an apology.”

I barely stopped myself from groaning out loud.

Her mouth twitched angrily, but it was subtle enough that Max probably didn’t register it. She kept her voice fairly even as she said, “What I’m hearing is that you want to show off and disrupt the class with parlour tricks instead of following the lesson plan.”

Two spots of red appeared high on Max’s cheeks. “It’s not showing off! Is it so hard to believe I can do this?” Before Mrs. Cadieu could reply, he went on: “I’m going to prove you wrong in front of the whole class. And you can apologize in front of the whole class. Otherwise I’m bringing it up with the principal.” He turned on his heel and stormed out, and I just about had to scurry after him.

Kids in the hallway cursed in alarm as the lockers rattled and the dials on their combination locks spun crazily. The hands on the hall clock were whirling like a time-lapse video. Max’s gangly goddamn legs had carried him halfway down the hall already. Nobody seemed to be looking at him right now, but if this kind of shit kept happening, someone would put it together.

I wove easily through the crowd, anticipating people’s movements and stepping out of the way with a bit more speed than I’d usually permit myself in public. Nobody was looking at me, either. Finally I got a hold of his shoulder. “Hey! Max!”

He slowed to a stop, then rested against a wall for balance, holding his head. The clock hands paused, then reset to the proper time. There was no more noise from the locks or lockers. The other kids looked around, hoping for a clue; some of them joked nervously about ghosts. Max was pale and shaking, panting a little.

I lowered my voice. “You still with us?”

“I’m... okay. Just... I was suddenly so _ angry _. I wanted to do something... anything... to wipe that condescending look off her face, and I didn’t know what to do.”

“Fuck, man. I thought you were going to…” I decided not to mention the eye-beams possibility. “...I dunno, punch her or something.”

That shocked him back to the here-and-now. “What? I couldn’t do that!”

“Okay. Good.” I looked steadily at him. “Dude… I think you need to drop it.”

He looked betrayed. “What? But she’s wrong! You _ know _ she’s wrong! And she –”

I held up a hand. “Yeah, I know! And I get that it’s not fair, okay? But just, look, it’d take you, what, two minutes a day to do whatever bullshit assignments she gives you? What does her opinion even matter?”

He stared at me like I’d just declared gravity wasn’t a thing. “She’s a _ teacher _. And she basically called me a liar in front of everyone. It’s not right, and I’m not going to let that stand.” He straightened up. “The principal will back me up.”

Fucking hell, how sheltered was this guy? “You don’t know that! Even if they believe you – and that’s not a given – they might figure it’s easier to tell you, ‘Sorry, kid, you gotta do what your teachers say,’ and leave it at that. And then you’ll have gone through all that shit for nothing.”

He looked uncertain. “But… schools are supposed to put the needs of the students first…”

“Yeah, just like the cops are supposed to ‘protect and serve’!”

“Well, yeah, that’s their job –”

“You’ve never seen ‘em beat your friends for wanting a fuckin’ warm place to sleep!” That was out of my mouth before I could stop it.

Max’s mouth dropped open, like he’d honestly never heard of police brutality. I reminded myself that he’d had an almost media-free life. He stammered, “But why – I mean – they wouldn’t get away with that, would they?”

“Even if the public hears about it, what’re they gonna think? Like, _ obviously _ those dirty street kids were in the wrong. Definitely not the heroes in uniform, who’ve already closed ranks.” I rubbed a hand over my face. “Look, my point is: you can’t always trust institutions.”

He was quiet for a moment, and I watched emotions chase each other across his face. Then he set his jaw stubbornly. “I’ve got to try.” He headed for his locker. “See you in the cafeteria.”

As I fidgeted impatiently in the caf line, I tried to think of how to salvage this situation. The bad news was that Max had already developed immense pride in his abilities – couldn’t blame him for that, really – and that he had kind of a rage button about it. The good news was that he clearly had a powerful aversion to violence, so the odds of him deliberately hurting someone seemed low. Problem was, non-violent shenanigans could still get you noticed by the wrong people. I doubted I was going to get anywhere by trying again to talk him out of it, at least not right away, and if I kept hammering the point I’d probably just drive him off.

At last I got my damn food and hurried towards the table we’d sat at yesterday. As I got near it, I saw that I had yet more Max issues to worry about. He was sitting there, looking unfocused, bobbing his head to something only he could hear. Vanessa was already pulling up a chair next to him. As I watched, she frowned, waved a hand in front of his face, and, still not getting a reaction, snapped her fingers.

That got his attention, at least. He looked her way and smiled brightly. “Oh. Hi.”

“Are you okay?” Vanessa asked, placing a hand on top of his. Max’s cheeks flushed in a way that was honestly kind of adorable.

He shifted in his seat, then gave a brief nod. “Yeah. Things are just continuing to be weird.” His smile was faint, and he was quiet for a few moments longer, but then added, “I think I’ll be okay.”

She squeezed his hand, looking a little reassured.

This seemed like a good time to stop hovering like a stalker and sit down. “Hey there.”

Vanessa looked a bit displeased at me disrupting her moment, but she nodded politely at me. Her expression changed to concern as Max said, “I’ve been hearing things.”

I hoped my look of alarm could be explained away as worry for a friend’s mental health.

“What do you mean?” Vanessa glanced at me, then back at him. The notion that I’d been out of the loop seemed to make her feel better, because she squeezed his hand again. “Take your time.” She gave him a reassuring smile.

Max was quiet for a few moments, and it looked like he was struggling to find words. Finally, he looked up. “Okay, can you get out your phone?” Vanessa gave him a curious glance, then released Max’s hand to pull it out of her backpack.

Of course he was going to spill his guts to the girl he was crushing on. I tried to force my face into a neutral expression. This might turn out okay. She had struck me as someone with a lot of confidence and level-headedness. I really, really hoped I’d been right about that.

He studied the phone with an almost detached look, and it buzzed in her hand. Vanessa looked down at the screen, and I craned my neck to see the screen. It just said “Unknown Caller”, without even a phone number. It buzzed again, and Vanessa held up a finger as she answered it.

“Hello?”

_ “Vanessa? Can you hear me?” _ Max’s voice was on the phone, but his lips weren’t moving. She stared at him. He had that faraway look again. His eyes snapped briefly back into focus, taking in our reactions, then blanked again.

“Max?” Vanessa sounded freaked out. Then she scowled. “Is this some kind of prank?”

_ “No.” _ There was hesitation in the voice on the phone, and more than a hint of worry.

I reminded myself that I wasn’t supposed to be able to hear his side of the conversation, and deliberately stuffed a few fries into my mouth.

“Okay…” she said slowly, and studied him. Then she carefully reached out and took Max’s hand again. “So how are you doing this?”

Most people would have fallen back on what they thought they knew: _ this is impossible, so it must be someone trying to fuck with me. _ Vanessa hadn’t done that. Instead, she’d let herself notice that weird look, then put it together with the anxious voice, and concluded: he means what he’s saying, he’s taking a risk here, and he’s worried I won’t believe him.

_ “I don’t know.” _ The phone-voice sounded strained. Vanessa rubbed her thumb across Max’s palm. His expression didn’t change, but it must have soothed him, because the voice continued in a calmer tone. _ “Yesterday, I thought I was hearing and seeing things, and then today it got worse. Or better? I think I’m starting to understand what everything was. This is... different. I didn’t think something like this would happen.” _

Time for a bit of a gamble. I leaned forward and tried to look confused. “So what’s going on?”

Vanessa gave me a measuring look. “He just called me. He called me without a phone.”

She hadn’t tried to lie about it. I let the surprise show on my face. “No fuckin’ way.”

“Language,” Max responded instantly, saying it out loud and on the phone at the same time.

Vanessa giggled at that, and thumbed the hangup button. Max blinked as if waking up, and she continued to rub his palm in slow circles as she slipped her phone back into her bag.

“So you don’t think he’s messing with you – he actually did something impossible just there?” I raised my eyebrows at her. “You’re taking this well.”

“So are you,” she said coolly. Shit. She _ was _ observant.

She turned back to Max. “You said you didn’t think that would happen?”

He shook his head, looking down at their linked hands. “I don’t know. I could see the phone. I could see what was inside it. I could see the circuits and the battery. I could even see the energy that was flowing through it. It seemed... happy... that I had remembered your phone number. Then it rang. Like I had dialled it.” He glanced between the two of us.

“I –” she began, then shot me a meaningful look. “_ We _ both believe you. But I do think we should be careful who knows about this.”

“Well, yeah,” I said in _ like, duh _ tones, as if this wasn’t exactly the kind of thing I’d been worrying about.

**Day 2 - Vanessa**

Someone from a different background would probably have freaked out more, or just refused to believe what they’d seen and heard. But my family’s a little weird. Part of it was the stories my mother had told me – relatives who’d seen ghosts, a great-grandmother with eerily accurate premonitions – and part was the odd little traditions we had, like always having a horseshoe over the main door and sprigs of rowan above all the entrances.

But that was all kind of old-world stuff. Max’s abilities were bleeding-edge modern.

He wasn’t being a jerk about it, though. Some guys would have been off pulling every stupid stunt they could think of… and with technology being everywhere, there was a _ lot _ of potential for stupid stunts. Max mostly just looked like he was in over his head.

“You memorized my phone number already?” I asked, hoping a bit of light-hearted teasing would relax him.

Ryu gestured at Max with a French fry. “It’s one of his superpowers. Every superhero’s got a few less-flashy powers, right?”

Max groaned and slumped in his seat, but a tiny smile pulled at one corner of his mouth. “Not a superhero.”

“Totally are.”

“No such thing.”

“Seriously, man. Maybe you’re the first one. Got bit by a radioactive calculator.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

“Hey,” I cut in, “If he’s a superhero, does that make you his sidekick?”

That actually stopped Ryu cold for a bit. Then: “I’m not wearing fuckin’ pixie boots.”

Max grinned. “Language, sidekick.”

“Yeah,” I added. “You need to set a good example for the kiddies.”

Ryu snorted, rolled his eyes, and took an enormous bite out of his burger.

So, okay. Max had probably told Ryu some things when they’d had a class earlier, and that might explain why he hadn’t seemed as surprised as he could have. But he hadn’t seemed comfortable with Max telling me. He hadn’t batted an eye at us holding hands, so I didn’t think it was romantic jealousy. It was more like… like he was being protective. I was okay with that part. I just couldn’t shake the impression that Ryu was hiding something.

“Can anyone think of an example,” Mr. Sandford asked, “of a word or phrase that used to mean one thing, but now means something else?”

Ryu stuck his hand up. When our English teacher pointed at him, he drawled, “‘The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel.’” He went on to explain, “Way back in the eighties, when _ Neuromancer _ was written, that meant, like, grey and staticky-looking. But now, people read that and think of a flat blue.”

“‘Way back in the eighties…’” Mr. Sandford shook his head. “Get off my lawn!” A few kids laughed. “That’s an interesting example, Ryu. Can anyone think of another one?”

That’s _ what colour Max’s eyes are, _ I thought. _ That kind of bright, artificial blue. _ I was still a bit surprised at myself for not feeling more unnerved about him. But… unless I was really, _ totally _ off, he wasn’t pulling a prank on me. (And if, somehow, he were? Then I’d never speak to either of those guys again.) That meant that not only was he a sweet guy completely new to the area, but he was also going through something unique and maybe dangerous. He needed friends he could trust.

Also, he was _ so _ hot. I was beginning to understand the phrase “can’t keep my hands off him”.

I chuckled to myself, thinking about how my mom would tease me if she knew I was spending most of class thinking about a boy, and turned my attention back to what the teacher was saying.

The guys were waiting for me in the Pit after class, so I flopped down on the cushion beside Max. “So, what movie are we going to see?”

“Actually…” Max took a breath. “...I was thinking I might take you up on that weekend idea instead.” He gave Ryu an apologetic look. “Maybe the three of us could go together another time?”

Ryu’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. I thought he might get annoyed at being moved down on the schedule, but instead a sly little grin spread over his face. He bumped Max’s shoulder as if to say, _ good going, dude! _

“Yeah, I’ve got some math homework,” Max said lightly.

Ryu’s smile vanished into an expression of dismay. It seemed like an overreaction to the mention of math homework.

“We could go to my place, though. For supper,” Max added.

I almost asked, _ Shouldn’t you call ahead? _ and then remembered what he’d said about the lack of phones. “Um… will she be okay with feeding two extra people?”

Max waved a hand. “My mom tends to cook lots so we have leftovers. It’ll be okay.”

“Well. I should let my folks know.” I got out my phone and made a quick call home.

I had known what the outside of Max’s house looked like from yesterday, and he’d told me about the frequent moves and the lack of technology. Still, seeing it for myself was something else. The undecorated faux-wood walls, second-hand furniture, and lack of anything obviously expensive made me think I’d never really appreciated just how comfortably stable and middle-class my own house was.

He’d called out, “I’m home!” as soon as he stepped in, and a tired woman’s voice had answered, “I’m here.” Something about her tone made him frown. As he toed off his shoes and hung his coat, he gestured us towards the dining room.

His mom was sitting on a battered grey couch in what I supposed was the living room. She didn’t look much like Max: short, slightly-greying dark hair and an unremarkable face, dressed in navy slacks and a yellow turtleneck sweater. She’d been reading a book, but she set it aside and got up. She immediately hugged him just a bit too tight.

Ryu and I sat down, a bit awkwardly, at the dining room table and listened.

“What is it?” Max asked.

His mom didn’t let go of him. “It’s just… I know you’re going through some changes. I should have prepared you better for it, but I was so scared.”

Now Max was starting to look worried. “Scared of what?”

She let go of him and stepped back, taking a deep breath. “Your… your aunt called. Your aunt Tammy.” She stumbled a bit over the name.

Max frowned. “Called? How?”

“She sent me a phone. It rang when I checked the mailbox. As soon as it rang I knew it was her. I knew I couldn’t hide you any longer. I’m sorry I can’t explain more. There are some packages in your room.”

I leaned over to Ryu and whispered, “Should we go? I mean, it’s not really our business.”

He was watching the scene intently – not like a gawker, more like a detective who might have to write up a report later. He shook his head once, not taking his eyes off them. “He needs us.”

“What… hide me?” Max’s hands flexed briefly at his sides, like confusion, anger, and concern were warring in him.

“I’ll try to be here for you as much as you’ll let me. But I don’t know how else to help you.” The words rushed out of her. Her hands lifted a little as though she wanted to pull him into another hug, but she restrained herself. Her eyes flicked towards us, and she seemed to register our presence. “You must be Vanessa and… Ryu, was it? Pardon me for not saying hello right away.” She straightened up a bit. “You can call me Mary.”

Ryu dipped his head. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” Wow, so he could have manners. “Pleased to meet you,” I echoed.

Max’s mother smiled at us as she moved towards the kitchen. The expression loosened a lot of her worry-lines, and I noticed that her eyes looked kind. “Max, could you unfold the other chairs and set the table, please?” To us, she added, “I’m sorry we don’t have much in the way of furniture. We just moved in.”

“Ma’am,” said Ryu, “Not too long ago I was sleeping in stairwells and McDonalds. I’m not gonna judge.” Ignoring the startled looks from the three of us, he asked, “D’you need a hand with anything?”

“No, no,” Mary waved a hand at us. “You’re a _ guest. _”

Throughout dinner – which was spaghetti and garlic bread, followed by apple pie and ice cream – Max’s mom tried her best to make a bit of small talk: what do your parents do, did you grow up in Trois Portes, that kind of thing. I got the impression that she was using the hostess role to distract herself, and it wasn’t always working; sometimes the table lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. She visibly checked herself in the middle of asking about Ryu’s family situation; he surprised me again by covering for her, shrugging off the abbreviated question and complimenting the food.

Max mostly stayed quiet.

When we were finished eating, his mom stood up. “Max, why don’t you show your friends your room? I’ll tidy up tonight.” There was a note of firmness in her tone that said this wasn’t really a request.

He hesitated, but I tugged on his arm, and he nodded.

**Day 2 - Maxwell**

I was torn between wanting to corner Mom and get some answers, and letting her just hug me and pretend everything was fine; also between clinging to the normalcy of after-dinner cleanup, and going to see what those new packages were. Vanessa’s insistence reminded me that I couldn’t confront my mother with my friends there anyway. I decided to store my thoughts and worries into neat little mental boxes to be opened and examined later, then wondered how I’d learned to do that.

My room looked more crowded than it had ever been: not only did I actually have company, but there were boxes scattered around on the floor, the bed, and anywhere else that would hold them.

“Holy sh…” Ryu glanced back down the hallway. “Sweet Christmas.”

I walked in, navigating the boxes and studying them. I could already “see” what was inside them; the glow of electronics and whispers of machinery were telling me what everything was. The shape of computer parts stood out, and I was already discovering how everything would fit together before I’d touched a single container. At the far side of the room was a large, flat-screen LED television, already mounted, which took up most of the wall. The sticker on it boasted just how big it was and how precise the image was going to be. A new clock radio and a cellphone sat on the bed, as well as an extra large tablet.

It should have felt like Christmas, but mostly it was just overwhelming. I sat down on one of the few unoccupied spaces on the floor.

“This is all from your ‘Aunt Tammy’?” Vanessa asked as she picked her way over to the bed. “The one in Australia?” Ryu had closed the door behind him and leaned against it.

“It seems so.” I pointed at each box in turn. “Wireless keyboard and mouse, an all-in-one printer and copier, stereo speakers, a wireless router. I think she even got me internet already – there’s a satellite dish installed on the roof.” I frowned. “It’s like, the latest in tech, but it’s all original stuff. No brand names anywhere, on anything.”

Ryu nodded slowly. “You can sense all that, ‘cause it’s tech.”

“Everything is being put together in my head. When I see them, I learn what they are, and even what they’re capable of. Five minutes ago? I couldn’t tell you anything about this... but it’s like I’m grasping knowledge out of the air – or like the machines are talking to me.” I sighed and ran my hands through my hair. “You’d think I’d be more than happy, wouldn’t you? This is, like, everything I would have dreamed of a week ago.”

“Nah, man.” Ryu leaned down and squeezed my shoulder. “Even positive change can be traumatic. You’ve got a whole other set of stuff to deal with, and you might wonder whether you really deserve it, and feel like you ought to be happier or more grateful, and maybe part of you wants to go back to your old life, when a lot of things sucked but you were used to it...” For a moment, he’d sounded as if he were quoting someone else. He finished, “It’s… a whole thing.”

Vanessa raised her eyebrows at him. “Sounds like you’ve been through something similar.”

Ryu looked at her silently for a moment. “In some ways. Yeah.” He didn’t sound like he wanted to elaborate.

“So... why now?” Vanessa picked up a small box and turned it over in her hands. “An aunt you’ve never met suddenly sends you a credit card and an entire bleeding-edge multimedia playroom. Your mom’s trying really hard not to freak out about it. What’s going on?”

One of my mental boxes sprung open. My mind had been putting together all the little bits of information in the background, and now the answer was staring me in the face. It was just as well I was already sitting down, because I felt like I’d just been punched in the stomach.

It took me a moment to be able to talk. “Mom and I used to move a lot. I think she’s been trying to hide me from something, and I think Aunt Tammy may have been involved with it. In fact, mom was probably hiding me from Aunt Tammy. This thing that’s happening to me… I think Aunt Tammy was waiting for it, and mom was trying to prevent it.”

“What makes you say that?” Ryu asked.

“Aunt Tammy’s not my aunt. She’s my biological mother. I think mom adopted me.” I shook my head. “No, not adopted. More like she kidnapped me.”

“Oh… shit,” Ryu whispered. “You think your bio-mom’s got the same powers?”

Vanessa frowned. “But why would your mom – the one who raised you – have kidnapped you? If she’s scared of these powers, it’d make more sense for her to stay far away from both of you.” She shook her head. “And, well, she seems really sweet. I know appearances can be deceiving and all, but I just can’t see her being a baby-napper.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “I don’t know. I’ll ask my mom – not tonight, but soon. But it might be that the only way I’ll know for sure is by talking to ‘Aunt Tammy’.”

My friends were both quiet for a bit. Then Vanessa jostled my arm. “Hey, genius. Why don’t we open up these boxes and help you put all this together. I doubt returning them is an option, so you may as well use them.” To Ryu, she added, “He’s been acting like they’re going to bite him.”

“I’m scared,” I admitted. “I feel like I’m about to walk into something, and once it’s started, I won’t be able to turn back.” I pointed to one box, the one I couldn’t see inside. “Can we start with that one?” Vanessa picked it up and handed it over. It was a small, plain package, and when I opened it up, there was a very thick book inside. I skimmed the pages, discovering it was a technical manual for the computer still boxed up. In seconds, I finished the book, my mind sorting through the information I’d just absorbed.

Ryu looked at the cover and chuckled. “For me, it’d have to be _ PCs for Dummies _.”

For the next hour, we opened the boxes, assembled the computer, and got everything organized. The smart TV was able to pick up signals from the computer, so it acted like a giant monitor, and the stereo system was assembled and fastened to the walls. Once I’d hooked the computer up to the internet, Ryu tracked down some music for me, and Vanessa picked out a bunch of webcomics for me to get into. Then we all got drawn into watching cute animal videos and short comedy sketches. It all felt so _ normal _, like my life wasn’t a maelstrom – there was a new word – and it felt good.

After what felt like too short a time, Ryu glanced at the clock. “Yeah, I gotta go soon. Group homes have curfews.”

Vanessa pulled out her phone and started dialling. “Dad’s going to pick me up. Maybe he can drop you off somewhere?”

Ryu blinked. “Uh, I guess? Whereabouts you heading?”

I escorted them to the door as they discussed travel logistics. Mom was nowhere to be seen; I supposed she was hiding in her room. I reminded myself that “hiding” was an uncharitable thing to think. Maybe she’d just gone to bed early.

Soon enough, there was a brief honk from outside. Vanessa grabbed up her bag. “I had a good day, Max. Even with the weirdness. Let’s have another one.” She snuck a kiss on the cheek which gave me that weird, pleasant feeling again. I stood up, and headed to the door with them.

Ryu thumped me on the shoulder. “See you tomorrow, Max. Be cool.”

“Sure thing.”

The two headed out, walking over to a sturdy tank of a car. I closed the door once they started to drive away. I walked slowly back to my room and flopped down in the new ergonomic computer chair. My room was... not mine. All this expensive stuff felt alien to me, unlike anything I’d ever seen before. It didn’t feel like _ mine _. The doppelganger I had seen in the mirror the day before had just taken over my life, my room, and turned my mom into a wreck.

The giant television across the room stared back at me, the screen going through a rather soothing screensaver, showing off rolling hills and distant mountains and sparkling streams. It was almost like the entertainment centre hooked up to it had chosen it for me. I could feel the power ebbing and flowing through my room, the electricity giving everything life, and the soft thrum of it was at once calming and foreign to me.

I picked up my cellphone. It was already registered and was passively scanning for anything incoming. I’d hooked it up to the wifi, and when everything had been put together, I’d noticed I already had an internet, cell, and satellite TV account in my name. I had more channels than I would ever know what to do with, having never owned a television before. My room had been wired before I’d even finished school for the day. All presumably paid for by “Aunt Tammy”.

There was a brief surge of electricity within the computer, and a soft blue glow filled the room before the screen flickered to the logo from my credit card.

_ “Hello, Max.” _ I fell out of my chair at the pleasant female voice. _ “I hope you liked your birthday presents. I’m sorry I wasn’t around to see you today, but I’m sure we’ll meet sometime soon. Ta!” _

The screen flickered again, switching back to my desktop. I let out a breath as the shock wore off. The surge that I felt from inside the computer faded away.

“That... was you, wasn’t it? That was _ you _!” I scrambled to my feet, climbed back into my chair and stared at the computer, then at the screen. I could already feel myself being drawn in as I closed my eyes, feeling the components, reading the information already stored. I could feel the soothing flow of electrons, and allowed myself to be pulled in, giving chase.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content note: there's a moment of Eye Scream late in this chapter. At the tail end, a little bit of corpse squick.

**Friday**

_ “How are you feeling, Max?” I watched him look around and try to get his bearings. He was much more alert now, his strange blue eyes taking in the world around him. He was listening, absorbing the sounds of his new world, and I let him just soak in the sea of information for a while. This world – my world – was secure, and he would learn nothing I didn’t want him to know. _

_ “Where am I?” he finally asked, turning to watch me. _

_ I smiled. That was a good first question. “That’s not important yet, Max. How you are feeling is.” _

_ “I feel... good. Comfortable. Awake.” _

_ I nodded. “Those are all positive signs. I was worried before, but I think you’re doing very well. I have friends; you’ll be meeting them soon enough. They can help you.” _

_ “Friends?” _

_ “Yes, Max. Later, though. I’m sure you’ll have a lot of questions for me when we meet later. But first, you need to wake up. School’s starting soon, and you’re going to be tested, I think. Be careful, okay?” _

_ Max paused for a moment. _

_ “You aren’t my mother, are you? You sound different.” _

_ I gave a gentle laugh. “No, I’m not your Aunt Tammy.” Though he wasn’t far from the mark. He looked a little sad at the answer, and I drifted over, giving him a warm hug. “I’m flattered, though. Not many boys have three people who would be happy to call you their son.” I kissed him on the forehead: partially to soothe him, and partially to make some final adjustments, helping to smooth his transition. “You’ll be fine, Max.” _

####  **Day 3 - Vanessa**

“Usually he’s here super-early,” Ryu noted. He was leaning on the fence near the school entrance, staring down the street. Despite his show of manners yesterday with Max’s mom and my dad, he was back to his usual swaggering self. His posture right now just about screamed “hooligan”.

I gave him a sideways glance. “You’ve known him, what, two days? And you’re already observing his habits?”

Ryu looked at me for a moment, then let out a quiet sigh. “Okay, you got me.”

“I… what? I do?” I hadn’t thought it’d be that easy to crack him.

He nodded solemnly. “Yeah. My hidden agenda… the reason I’ve been shadowing Max… is to check out his ass.”

That got a startled laugh out of me. “Oh my god! You are terrible!”

He snickered. “I had you going for a minute, didn’t I?” His eyes flicked back to the street. “Oh hey, there he is.”

I strained to follow his gaze. “Is he… dancing?”

Ryu squinted critically. “Yeah, kinda. Awkward white-boy dancing.”

“The word I’d use is ‘adorkable’.” I watched Max approach the intersection, which changed just before he got there. He wasn’t paying attention to where he was going, seeming focused on everything except the path ahead of him. When he spotted us, he waved and rushed over to join us.

I leaned in and adjusted the collar of his jacket. “Watch where you’re walking. I don’t want to see you getting hit by traffic.”

Ryu punched him in the arm. “How’s it going, man?”

Max stifled a yawn, but still seemed to be bouncing to music only he could hear. I couldn’t see any earbuds on him. “Great, though I didn’t get much sleep.”

“And you’re in a good mood.” Ryu turned to me with a smirk. “I think our boy’s discovered internet porn.” I elbowed him in the ribs. He just chuckled.

“What?” Max blinked. “No. I can’t really explain it. I was trying out the computer, and I felt like I was almost  _ in  _ the net. I almost didn’t wake up for school. I was looking at... a lot of things, though. Found a few online colleges that focused on math, science, and engineering.” He grinned. “I might need to change courses soon.”

I took his hand, tugging him into the school. “Don’t you think you’re taking this all a little too quickly? I mean, changing your courses right now might be a bad idea.” Part of my worry was selfish, I had to admit. What if he suddenly jumped to university or something? I’d only known him for a few days, but I’d been hoping we’d be able to do some kind of normal high-school dating.

He considered. “Well, it’s only the third day of school, I have a week to swap courses.”

Ryu patted Max on the shoulder. “I’m going to homeroom. I’ll see y’all later.” He waved and headed off, leaving me and Max to meander to our own homeroom.

I let out a breath, glad for the privacy. “Max… I’m glad you’re feeling better, but what happened?”

He paused, and I could see some of the old Max peek out. He deflated some. “I’ve not talked to mom yet, but... I think I have a better grasp of what I’m able to do. I’m not dizzy, I don’t have the headaches – all of that’s gone. So, I feel better.”

I smiled. “Okay, good. It’s just… this is cool and all, but I’m hoping you’re not going to, like, zap yourself into the matrix like in that old  _ Tron _ movie. Spend at least some of your time in the real world, okay?”

Ms. Tanas had entered class and turned on her computer, showing its desktop on the pulled-down projector screen. “Today, I thought we could watch a program from the UK. This is  _ Rumpole of the Bailey _ , and we’re going to look at the difference between our legal system and the British legal system it was based on.” As she double-clicked on a video, she called out, “Could someone please dim the lights?”

I saw Max’s eyes unfocus for a split second before he thought better of it.

As I was on my way to Geography, someone knocked my arm, hard. I had to juggle my books for a moment. When I looked up, one of the girls from homeroom was standing a few steps away, flanked by a couple of her friends and looking like she hoped I’d react badly. I recalled her name now: Hayley, whose mother dropped her off every day in a super-expensive car.

“Oh,  _ sorry _ ,” she said in a voice so syrupy it made her friends giggle, “You had your elbow out, and it was in my way.”

“Well,  _ I’m _ sorry, but you really should watch where you’re going.” I marched on ahead.

Behind me, Hayley let out a scoff. “You don’t have to be such a bitch about it.”

_ What the hell was that about? _ I wondered. At my last school, nobody had paid particular attention to me. I’d had a few casual friends, and we still chatted online occasionally, but didn’t really hang out anymore. I hadn’t had anyone dislike me enough to earn the term “enemy”, really.

So, okay, a rich bitch had just randomly decided she hated me. I sighed to myself. It would be easier if she’d just tried to punch me or something – my mom had had me taking martial arts classes since I was a little kid. But apparently Hayley was the type to provoke someone and then play victim, so trying to get physical would just make things worse.

One bit of Geography got my attention. Mr. Spence started discussing the creation of the St. Lawrence Seaway; they’d built a dam in 1958, and there were a number of towns and villages along the coast which had had to be evacuated. The “lost villages” still existed, some of them having been physically moved to other locations like Upper Canada Village, or shifted to higher ground, but there were a few towns that were now underwater. I thought about abandoned houses standing at the bottom of the seaway, fish swimming in and out of doorways, seaweed swaying where long grass used to be.

If we had to do a geography project, maybe I could pick something to do with that.

**Day 3 ** **\- Ryu**

“Hey.” Vanessa looked up from her lunch as I sat down. “Where’s Max? I thought you guys had a class together.”

“He’s talking to the principal. Voluntarily.”  _ And making his super-advanced brain obvious to even _ more  _ people, _ I added to myself.

She pried open a sandwich-shaped container. “What happened?”

I took a bite of my food, and made a mental note that school cafeteria poutine wasn’t very good. “He can do, like, university-level math in his head now. Mrs. Cadieu got pissy about it, wanted him to sit down and shut up. So he brought in all the work for the next two years,  _ ka-thump, _ and was like, ‘apologize!’”

Vanessa groaned. “He thought she was just going to say ‘Sorry I didn’t recognize your genius’ or something?”

I raised my hands. “Right? I told him it wasn’t worth the trouble. Just…” I stabbed my fork into a blob of cheese. “I don’t get it. He keeps his head down around the bully-boys, but he insists on standing up to an old lady? An old lady who would…”

She put down her sandwich. “Who would what? She’s just a math teacher.”

I hesitated for a moment. Vanessa didn’t know just what kind of threats were out there, but she already knew about Max, and she’d picked up that I wanted to protect him, even if she didn’t know why. I leaned forward. “You know how we were joking about him being a superhero?”

Her mouth quirked up. “What, you think Mrs. Cadieu’s going to turn into a supervillain?”

I let out an amused snort, trying to picture that. “No. But… a lot of superheroes have secret identities for a reason.”

“Ohhh.” Vanessa picked her sandwich back up. “And if the Men in Black or whoever started poking around, a teacher would be a much more believable witness than some teenage meathead.” She took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. “It might be good for him to keep things under wraps while he’s still figuring things out, at least.”

I nodded. “Well, Max may be sheltered, but he’s not stupid. And here’s our boy now.” He was moving towards our table, shoulders slumped.

“Soooooo…?” Vanessa asked, as Max flopped into his chair and dug a pop can out of his bag.

He sighed. “The principal didn’t think I was cheating… but he said that I shouldn’t have been disruptive, either.” He downed his ginger ale in one go. “He said that if I don’t think I need the class, there are proper channels to go through… like I was supposed to know that?”

Vanessa leaned back in her chair. “Okay, so what are these proper channels?”

Max calmed a little at that. “I take the final exam, and do some other work. In a monitored room. And there’s some other paperwork, like a parental sign-off. Then I could either take a spare, or get permission to do something else, like physics or calculus.”

I forced down the rest of my meal out of old survival habits. “So here’s a question. What if you try those and decide they’re too easy for you? What then?”

“I…” He paused in the middle of pulling out a bag of veggie chips. “I don’t know. Do I even need to be in school? If I can learn everything super-fast? I’d just get bored.”

“You’re thinking in terms of pure book-learning,” Vanessa pointed out. “Some stuff really does require hands-on experience. Think of stuff like drafting or auto shop. Even for biology and chemistry, they do labs.”

“Yeah,” I said, relieved that she’d brought that up. Going to the same high school as Max was one thing; following him early to university would be a harder sell. Boss would probably have to assign someone else to keep an eye on him… one of my siblings, maybe. “And think of creative subjects, like art and music. Hell, if you’re a math whiz, music theory’ll be a snap.”

“We’re focusing on things that  _ aren’t _ a snap for him,” Vanessa reminded me.

“Right, yeah. And hey, you get bored in class, you can just, like, read e-books in your head or something.”

Vanessa raised her eyebrows. “Is that a thing he can do?”

“He was listening to music in his head earlier.” I looked back at Max. “That is what you were doing, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He opened his bag of chips and grumpily chewed one. “Still not fair that I got humiliated for something I didn’t do.”

Vanessa took Max’s hand. “Um… I’ve been doing some reading. Trying to figure out what could explain your abilities.”

He relaxed a bit. “There are books on this?”

“Not really. Most of the websites and videos I found were…” She made a face. “...Either conspiracy theories or new-age stuff. People guessing, or making wild leaps, or just making things up to suit whatever they want to believe.” She tossed her juice can into the recycle bin. “But – no offense – why would you be the first one, or the only one? There has to be a reason why we don’t hear about people like you on the news.”

I tilted my chair onto its back legs while I studied the two of them. Vanessa was right, of course. There was a whole secret and dangerous world out there, which most people went their entire lives safely unaware of. Max was going to get dragged into it sooner or later, and she might get pulled in too. Part of me wanted to warn them, but I wasn’t sure how much I was allowed to say.

Also, it would mean explaining what I was and why I was really here.

“How d’you think most people would react?” I asked, and groped around for a comparison. “I mean, even in the comics, where superheroes are a known thing, you’ve got people who hate and fear them. Look at the X-Men.”

“I’ve never read a comic book,” Max admitted.

I almost yelled,  _ Dude, I’ve got to lend you some! _ Before I remembered that that might raise questions about where I kept my stuff. I’d been intentionally vague about where I lived.

“A lot of people would think it’s cool, though, wouldn’t they? And…” His face took on a longing expression. “...If there were others, they could teach me. We could join forces and do amazing things.”

“To be absolutely fair,” Vanessa said, “I think people would have reasons for being afraid. There are lots of ways for technology to be abused! You hear about stalkers and criminals and crazy exes hacking people’s devices to spy on them. If you told people you could talk to machines, a lot of them would wonder if you were reading their private messages.”

Max looked genuinely stunned. Which, I thought, meant he hadn’t been snooping – if he’d been reading people’s sexts, he probably would have blushed instead. “I wouldn’t do that!”

“They’d only have your word for that,” Vanessa pointed out. She squeezed his hand to soften the statement.

“Some people would want to use you,” I said. “Spying. Rigging elections. Ordering drone strikes. All kinds of shit. And I know you’re clever, but –” I almost added  _ these people are fucking ruthless _ , but bit it back.

Max blinked a few times and said, “Oh,” in a very small voice.

“I know it sucks to have to hide this,” Vanessa told him, “But –” The lunch bell rang, and she shot the speakers an irritated look. “– Right now, the fewer people who know, the safer you are,” she finished as we all stood up to head for our lockers.

No matter how smart he was, Max didn’t know how to think like a bastard. If someone were determined enough, they’d find him, figure out some way to hold him, get leverage on him.

_ They wanted me alive, _ I remembered Caitlin saying.  _ But they killed the driver and Dr. Beaufort. Sensei Hill tried to protect me… _

I took a deep breath. That was why the Boss had put me here. That was the kind of shit I was supposed to help prevent.

####  **Day 3 - Vanessa**

When I arrived at Max’s locker after classes, he and Ryu were in upbeat conversation. He smiled when I approached. “Ryu was telling me about the Silver Ball Arcade! He says it’s got all these vintage videogame machines. You want to come along?”

Damn, that did sound neat. “Aww, I can’t. I’ve got my martial arts class every Friday. Dad always picks me up so I can have a quick supper and then go.”

That piqued Ryu’s interest. “Yeah? Where do you learn?”

“Mai’s Dojo. Why? You know it?” I didn’t recall ever seeing him there, but that was definitely a flash of recognition on his face.

“Uh… I’ve been by a few times.” He nudged Max. “Hey, you with the new phone! Give your girl your number.”

Max coloured a bit and mumbled something about us not being  _ officially _ a thing yet. I was rolling my eyes at Ryu when my phone chimed twice. One message was Max’s contact info; the other was from my dad.

“Well, he’s outside now.” I readjusted my bag on my shoulder.

A few minutes later, I climbed into my dad’s car, not-so-affectionately known as “The Boat”. It was an old-school town car, heavy and expensive-looking but not fashionable at all. Out of habit, I closed the door carefully so it wouldn’t slam. Max waved at me before heading down the street with Ryu.

My dad squinted after them. “So that’s… what did you say his name was?”

“Max.” I got my phone out and added his info to my address book, and then texted him  _ Hi! _ “Maybe we can have him over for dinner sometime.”

“Run it by your mother,” he said automatically as we began to drive.

Almost immediately I got a reply. I started looking through the emoji list, wondering if Max had seen any of those yet.

Dad glanced over. “You know, time was people would look each other in the eyes and have real conversations instead of tapping away on their screens all the time.”

I blew air out of my cheeks. “Shouldn’t you be looking at the road anyway?” I typed in,  _ Uuugh, my dad. :( _

_ Why, what’s up? _

_ He’s all “OMG u kids & ur phones”. _ I put in an eye-rolling emoji, then smirked as something occurred to me.  _ He has no idea how plugged-in YOU are! LOL _

Dad’s voice cut into my thoughts. “What’s so important you have to do messages all the time?”

“I’m having a conversation with Max.”

Dad harrumphed. “This isn’t any of that sexy texting, is it? No sexy texting in my car.”

Obviously he was trying to get under my skin. “Ugh, dad. It’s called ‘sexting’, and no, I’m not sexting him.” To needle him back, I added, “Not yet, anyway.”

“See these grey hairs?” Dad took one hand off the wheel to point at his head. “These are all from you, kid.”

Max sent:  _ I had to Google “OMG” and “LOL”. I also just discovered something called Urban Dictionary, and now Ryu’s laughing at me. _

I giggled, imagining Max’s expression at that cesspit of a site, and sent a laughing emoji.

I didn’t like telling people that I lived in a gated community. It made me worry that kids would figure I was a snob, or that I was overly sheltered or something. I was also becoming aware that adults sometimes wondered how my family could afford a house in the Valentine Estates on the income of a trucker and a work-from-home accountant.

As we pulled into the driveway, I saw our neighbour wheeling a garbage bin to the curb. I jumped out as soon as we stopped. “Hi, Ms. Dalton!”

“Afternoon, Kayla,” my dad said, but then went inside rather than staying to chat.

“Hi Vanessa, Brian…” She trailed off and raised her eyebrows a bit.

I shrugged. “Dad’s grumpy ‘cause I met a boy.”

Even doing a mundane chore like the garbage, Ms. Dalton looked perfectly put-together. She was just a little taller than me, with green eyes, skin like dark ivory, and jet-black hair in a tidy updo. Today she had on a midnight-blue pantsuit with a little silver stag brooch pinned to one lapel. Offsetting that sharp professional look was an ear cuff in a pattern of tiny stars.

Ms. Dalton was one of the reasons my family had gotten a house here; she and mom must have known each other, but I didn’t know the details. I also knew that she had a girlfriend I’d somehow never met, and an adopted daughter a few years older than me named Amanda. Amanda went to Manor Park High, and we’d seen each other in passing a few times, but our schedules never seemed to sync up enough to have a real conversation.

Her mouth quirked up. “A  _ special _ boy?” She laughed. “You don’t need to answer that. Have you given any thought to university? If you’ve got a particular course of study in mind, I can recommend classes and extracurriculars to help you.” Her family had founded Dalton U, so that sort of thing came up in conversation a lot.

I shook my head. “Thanks, but I just don’t know yet. Mom said I might wind up in the ‘family business’, whatever that means.” She’d said it wasn’t all accounting, but she was kind of hazy on the details.

Ms. Dalton made a noncommittal noise. “Maybe… but I hope you can find your own path.” She smiled brightly at me. “Anyway, nice talking with you. Let me know if you’ve got university questions!”

By the time I got inside, Dad was settled in his usual spot in the living room, watching the hockey game. I passed by to the kitchen, which was full of the smell of cooking meatloaf.

Mom was wearing her favourite ladybug apron and mixing up a huge batch of cookie dough for whatever charity bake sale she was doing this week. “So how was school?”

“It was fine,” I said automatically. I glanced at the timer on the fridge, which was festooned with ladybug magnets. The meatloaf would be out soon, but I was hungry now, so I grabbed myself a fudgie from the cookie jar. “You need me to do anything?”

“Sure, get some creamed corn and heat it in the microwave. How’s your friend?” She gave me an impish little smile. “The one you said was cute?”

“He’s…” I paused as I opened up the can and dumped the corn into a dish. We had just been talking about how he’d be safer without too many people knowing too much about him. “Um, he’s going to be switching some classes, probably.” I slid the dish into the microwave and frowned at it as it began to whir and turn around. “Say, Mom? What  _ is _ the family business, anyway?”

Her smile faded. “Oh… not right now, honey.”

She  _ always _ put it off, or else changed the subject. But this time I had an excuse to keep pushing. “I was talking to Ms. Dalton about what kind of courses I’d need for my future studies, and I want to, y’know, make an informed choice.”

“Right,” Mom said quietly. “I guess you’re getting to that age.” She turned away and started rummaging around for the right cookie sheet. “We’ll talk about this soon, okay? But right now you’ve got to eat and get to your class.”

I sighed. “How soon is soon?”

“ _ Soon. _ Now could you pass me that ice cream scoop? It gets just the right amount of dough.”

####  **Day 3 - Ryu**

The Silver Ball was a big retro-arcade, built into an old building that had been there in the early 1900s, fronted with two bay windows which let people see the games inside. They kept the lamps dim to make the display screens and pinball lights stand out more dramatically. A ramp led up to a raised floor in the back, splitting the arcade into two levels. A small door beside one of the windows led up to a number of cheap, run-down apartments on the second and third floors, their windows blotted out with reflective film, allowing people to see out, but nobody to look in.

I glanced at some of the posters that had been taped onto the front door window as we stepped inside: notices for upcoming comics and game conventions, and a few ads for indie bands I’d never heard of. Inside was a cacophony of videogame sound effects and the clatter of pinballs, overlaid with music from the speaker system. As Max bought tokens, I instinctively gave the place a once-over, noting all the exits and checking for threats; the customers were a mix of adults getting a nostalgia fix and kids trying something different, but nobody stood out to me.

Max turned away from the token machine and looked around, his expression halfway between “kid in a candy store” and “deer in the headlights”. “Uh… so… which one should I try first?”

Right, of course he’d get decision paralysis. “Here,” I said, holding out my hand for tokens. “I’ll show you one of my faves.” I led him over to  _ Darkstalkers _ .

A moment later, Jon Talbain changed into a wolf-man, howled, and squared off against Rikuo. Max watched me use the werewolf to defeat the gill-man and then the vampire. As the game was transitioning to the next match, I stepped back. “You wanna try?”

At first, he stuck to imitating my moves. Then, as he got more confident, he began to show skills of his own. Not long after that, he darted his eyes around to make sure no one was looking, and lifted his hands off the controls. “Look ma, no hands.”

I chuckled a bit. “Hey, how ‘bout the really retro stuff?”

“Oh,” he said as I showed him a James Bond-themed pinball machine. “These ones I can’t completely control.”

“Why, is it too old?” None of the machines here were old enough to lack computer parts.

Max dropped in a token. “It’s not that.” He pulled back the plunger. “I can operate everything except the most important bit – the ball. That’s propelled by kinetic energy.” He released the plunger and the ball shot forward.

“Ah, okay.” I nodded and watched him play for a while. He may not have been able to control the ball with his brain, but he clearly knew what objects to aim for to progress the game’s “story”, and had a knack for judging the force and angle needed to launch the ball from the flippers. “Say, there’s a thing I heard about old pinball players doing – they’d give the machine a little bump at the right moment.”

He didn’t look up from the game. “That’s what the tilt sensors are for.”

“Yeah, but you could fool those sensors,” I pointed out.

Max frowned. “That would be cheating.”

“But playing with no hands isn’t?” I kept a light, just-kidding kind of tone, but I was curious to hear what he did and didn’t think of as cheating.

“Well…” He hesitated for a moment. “I kept to the game’s parameters. I just thought of the moves  _ as if _ I were putting them in with the controller, that’s all.” He smiled a bit. “Also, I fixed a few glitches. Just the interior wear and tear. External stuff would get noticed.”

I snorted. “By the time I get back from the bathroom, you’ll probably have given the place an invisible renovation.”

What did happen while I was taking a leak was that Max discovered  _ Street Fighter _ . “Hey,” he said as I approached, “I’m surprised you didn’t show me this one first. The signature character’s got your name.”

I grinned as the karate master systematically destroyed a car. “Didn’t want to seem too full of myself. He’s named Ryu –  _ obviously _ he’s gonna be kicking all the ass.”

“That’s ‘cause  _ I’m _ playing him. Also, language.”

“Pshh, details.” I waved my hand.

“Anyway…” He turned to look at me. “Earlier I was inputting moves. But I figured out how to run each fighter’s program at their maximum efficiency.”

I shook my head. “Note to self: if I ever have to do a videogame competition against this guy, pick DDR. I might have a chance.”

“Something else I noticed…” He glanced around. “See all these machines? They’re all low tech. Give me the materials and I could make these things a lot better.” He shuddered and lowered his voice. “Everywhere I look, I keep seeing the flaws. They’re too slow, too... inefficient. A week ago I knew nothing about machines, or computers, or electronics. In the last three days? I know almost everything about them. I can hear them when I sleep, I can see them when my eyes are closed. I can feel them all around me.”

“That sounds overwhelming,” I said. “How you holding up?”

“On the one hand, it’s kind of nice, like there’s a close friend at my side all the time. I feel safe, somehow. It’s like this is  _ right _ , this is natural for me. But...” He hesitated, glancing around. “I feel like a sponge, just soaking up everything. Every time I see something going on, every time I hear something, it feels like my mind’s soaking up the information, processing it. That’s what’s harder to handle. Did you know I learned to speak French overnight?”

I listened, my eyes on the game. My namesake was destroying the opposition, and Max wasn’t even paying any attention to the machine now. His hands weren’t on the controls, just resting near them, but the game-sprite was pulling off the most sick combos with flawless timing. The poor AI didn’t stand a chance. “Yeah? How many languages do you know?”

Max barely paused. “Arabic, Aramaic, Cantonese, Cherokee, Cree, Danish, Dutch, Filipino, French, German, Greek, Hebrew, Hindi, Ido, Inuktitut, Irish Gaelic, Italian, Japanese, Korean, Klingon, Latin, Mandarin, Mohawk, Navajo, Na’vi, Norwegian, Portugeuse, Quenya, Romanian, Russian, Scots Gaelic, Sindarin, Spanish, Swahili, Tagalog, Thai, Ukranian, Welsh, Yiddish, and Yoruba.”

“You’re shitting me.” In the back of my mind, I noted that he’d listed them in alphabetical order. “Just in the last few days, you’ve picked up… how many?”

“Language.” It was probably reflex for him now. “Forty. The world record is fifty-eight.” He almost seemed distressed by that.

I quickly ran through what I’d remembered from his list. Some of those were widely-spoken, others were scholarly, others were invented… “Hey. You didn’t pick up ASL? Y’know, sign language?”

“Oh.” A guilty look crossed his face. “I didn’t even think of that.” His eyes unfocused for a moment. “Did you know there are other sign languages? The estimate is three hundred.” Another pause. “Thanks for pointing out that oversight. I just downloaded three.”

I stared at him, then signed,  _ No shit? _ Partly to see if he’d learned the cuss words.

He gave me a scolding look and signed back,  _ Language. _

“Anyway, hey,” I continued out loud, “Everyone’s got their blind spots. You want to hit the park next? The food trucks should still be out.”

“Sure.” Max stepped back from the console and headed for the door. I followed him, glancing back briefly at the machine. Onscreen, game-Ryu sent his opponent flying, then raised one fist in a victory pose.

We headed southeast, back towards Rideau Street. Max was quiet for a bit. I jostled his arm. “Y’okay?”

“Just... it’s getting a little scary,” Max replied. “I think it’s finally sinking in what I’m capable of. And I feel stress when things seem... not  _ right _ .” He indicated a store window. “See that TV in there? I can tell that there are parts in it which are made to give out in three or four years. I can tell you how to replace them, and what would be needed to make them last three or even six times as long. I can compare them, without even trying, to every other model in the city, and in a few minutes I can figure out how to build a better one than anything in there.” He glanced at me. “Last week? I knew nothing about televisions.”

We stopped at the corner, and I went to smack the button for the crosswalk, but the lights changed just as I approached. Of course it did. “How do you learn this stuff?”

He pursed his lips as we crossed the street. “A lot of it is something that just happens. When I see a machine, I understand what it is and how it works. But if I don’t know something?” He took a breath. “Well, there are networks all over the place now — thousands upon thousands of computers with information in them, all interconnected, all tied to the internet. I can see these networks, I can touch the internet, and I can get whatever I need from it. The information is just there, waiting for me to access it. I don’t even have to try, Ryu. I just  _ do _ it.”

Rideau Park was huge, stretching out nearly as far as we could see from here. It was bordered by a tall, wrought-iron fence painted black. The trees were at their peak of colour in the late summer air, still partly green but beginning to turn to flame-hues. I’d steered him in this direction because the place was so damn big that I thought his connection with all those machines might be lessened.

As we passed through one of the entrance gates, I wondered, “Say you’re picking up things you need when you hit a snag, like you don’t know the name of something. Do you, like, mentally Google until you hit the right answer? Or do you kind of log into a wiki someplace and dig up the information there?” I snickered a bit. “Don’t go to TV Tropes, we’ll never hear from you again!”

He chuckled at my joke, and let me divert us to the main path which cut through the heart of the park. “It’s more a subconscious thing, really. I kind of reach out and it comes to me, it takes almost no time at all.”

“So how do you screen signal from noise? Like —” I almost said, “like espers have to learn”, and searched for another comparison. “Like, the Martian Manhunter’s a mind-reader, and sometimes he gets overwhelmed when there’re too many people around.”

“Oh.” Max shrugged. “That’s something else that I just… do, and I’m not sure how. It’s like instinctive knowledge, or an automatic process.” He began to glance around the park, shifting uncomfortably.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“I’m feeling isolated. There are a few phones nearby, but they’re spaced out.” He smiled a little, as if trying to reassure himself. “Well, okay. I have mine and my tablet, but it feels a lot quieter around here.”

“So… that’s bad for you?” I really liked it here, with its clean smells and rustling of leaves. There were so many trees it seemed to blot out the city. I’d hoped being away from all the machine chatter would clear his head.

He shook his head. “I don’t know. It just feels... strange.” He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I’m glad I can talk about this stuff with you. Vanessa’s being really cool and understanding, but I wonder if she’s more freaked out than she’s letting on. I really like her, and I’ve never had a girlfriend or anything, and I’m afraid all this might scare her away.”

“Something tells me she’s tougher than she lets on.” Especially if she was one of my sister’s students.

He nodded, absently running a hand along one of the park benches as we passed. “I think my mom’s barely holding it together.” He looked over at me. “How come you don’t freak out about this?”

I thought about making another glib comparison to superhero media, but decided against it. “Let’s just say I’ve been through some rough patches and I’ve seen some shit,” I said instead. Vague, but at least it wasn’t dishonest.

“Language.”

I snorted. “That’s another automatic process, isn’t it.” Changing the subject back, I asked, “So what about  _ you _ being freaked out?”

“It is a little freaky for me,” he admitted. “Part of me wants to push myself, but I’m telling myself to go slowly. I’m able to pick up everything in the school now – I know all the computers almost by name.” He chuckled at that. “And the cars going by, and the local buildings near the school.” He considered. “I think I’ve got a range of about ten kilometres now.”

“Shit.” I blinked. That was  _ huge _ . Not in the distance sense – though that too – but in the sheer information-gathering sense, and... I was going to need to be  _ careful _ .

“Language.” He laughed again. “Yeah, I can see and hear everything happening that far, when it comes to just the data and the electronics. With the internet? I can get some serious range, thanks to wireless.” He looked up at the sky, watching it darken. “I wonder if, some day, I can reach the satellites.”

I stared at him for a moment, thinking about just how much psychic power it would take to do that, then consciously put myself back into info-gathering mode. “So, the park isn’t helping much?”

“It is!” he objected. “I mean, I have to stretch my senses to get to the street, but I’m not pushing quite that far.” He looked ahead, where the park was growing narrower, the trees less thick as we headed towards the plaza.

The plaza was home to the park’s major attraction: the fountain of Medusa. The statue stood on a platform in the middle of a raised circular pool. This Medusa was a towering goddess of polished black basalt, standing about three metres tall and holding a spear twice her own length, its base resting by her bare feet. She had on one of those Ancient Greek dresses, but with one breast exposed. She stood facing East, with her head turned as if listening for something. Even the asps that formed her hair looked alert.

Our Medusa tended to inspire strong emotions in the locals. Most people liked her: in the summertime they’d sit on the ledge of the pool and cool their feet in the water, or eat their lunches there, or try to land coins in the basin under the platform on which she stood. Other people felt uncomfortable in her presence, and picked up their pace whenever they walked through this section of the park. In some, she even inspired reverence: I’d seen people singing to her or telling her their troubles, usually when there weren’t many others about, and a few even left little cups of wine near her pool.

Nobody had ever dared to vandalize the Medusa statue.

Right now there was a familiar figure sitting on the fountain ledge. Cymbree was a brown-skinned girl only a few years older than Max and me, with dark curly hair worn loose around her shoulders. She was wearing her usual thrift-store chic: loose red skirt, embroidered orange blouse, and gold hoops flashing in her ears. She had one knee propped up on the ledge so that she was partly turned towards Medusa but not ignoring any passerby, picking out a gentle melody on her guitar. I waved, not wanting to interrupt her, and she looked up with a little smile.

Max fished in his pocket and dropped a handful of twonies into Cymbree’s guitar case. She brought her tune to a finish — not hurriedly, but as if she’d timed things this way — and turned, placing both feet on the ground. “Thanks.” To me, she said, “Hi, Ryu. You going to introduce us?”

“Uh, sure.” I hadn’t intended to stop for conversation with anyone I knew; I was nervous that one of them might let slip something about where I actually lived. Her attention wasn’t on me, though. “This is Max. From school. Max, Cymbree.”

She nodded as he said hi, not taking her eyes off him. After a moment, she said, “I have a bit of insight for you. If you’re willing to hear it.”

I saw him glance at her outfit. “Like… a fortune?”

“Usually they’re more observations and advice. And no,” she added as he reached into his pocket again, “I don’t charge for that.  _ This _ is how I make my living.” She patted her guitar. “Here, give me your hand.” She stretched out her own.

Max let her take his hand. I wasn’t sure whether she was reading his palm, or just that she didn’t want to keep eye contact while her gaze was elsewhere. “A woman with a wooden heart has made you her enemy. You haven’t wronged her, but through her own actions, her beliefs will come true. Avoid the Hangman’s Tree.” She frowned and muttered, mostly to herself, “Really,  _ everyone _ should avoid that tree.” She let go of his hand and added, “Oh, and while you may find your half-brother charming, he isn’t to be trusted.”

“I...  _ what _ ?”

Cymbree shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, that’s all I know.” She flashed us a rueful smile as she gathered up her earnings and stowed it into various little pockets. “See, that’s why I stick to busking. People don’t pay to hear this sort of thing.” She packed up her guitar, lifted the case, and stood. “Well, I should get home. The boys will be missing me. Good luck.”

“Nice to meet you,” Max said faintly. It sounded reflexive. I just waved again as she headed off, focused on memorizing what she’d said until I could note it down somewhere.

####  **Day 3 - Rachel**

I sat back in my car, parked alongside the fence to Rideau Park, and watched through the rearview mirror as Max and his friend left. There was something oddly familiar about the kid — I’d noticed it when I’d first run into him — and my instincts had told me to keep an eye on him.

I shook my head ruefully and hoped that my Higher Purpose (capital H, capital P) involved more than creepily stalking a teenage student.

The trees in the park swayed and rustled, and I glimpsed the outline of a woman on the other side of the fence. She stayed in the shadow of the leaves, though ordinary people’s glances would have slid off her. Her skin was the colour of mahogany, dotted with tiny, glistening thorns. The hair which cascaded to her hips was the rich red of late-autumn leaves, scattered with tiny white blossoms. She was naked but for strands of leafy ivy which twisted and moved along her skin, sinking into it here and there, and her violet eyes were fixed on the retreating boys.

I climbed out of the car and stepped up to the black iron posts, keeping my tone polite and neutral. “Diantha.”

She turned her gaze on me, taking in my businesslike attire. A brief look of contempt crossed her features. “I want to speak to your other.”

“Not here, not now. Right now you can talk to me.” I glanced at the intersection, watching the two teens moving out of sight. “What is it about him that’s got your attention?”

“He can hurt me,” she replied. “I cannot allow this.”

“There’s a difference between  _ can _ and  _ will _ , Diantha. You should know better than this. He hasn’t raised a hand against you or yours.” I smiled coolly at her. “You know, the law has this thing: you don’t punish someone for what they  _ might  _ do.”

The ivy-vines covering her twitched in agitation. “It is fortunate I am not subject to your laws, then. He would act if we were to let him. I will not let him.”

I let a note of warning into my voice. “Diantha. My  _ other _ is charged with protecting the innocent.”

Her purple eyes narrowed, and the thorns growing from her flesh became noticeably longer. “None of them are innocent.” Then she was gone, and the trees sighed and swayed despite the lack of wind.

Sighing, I returned to my car. As the motor thrummed to life, I pressed the hands-free button and called Nikki.

“Hello, dear!” She always managed to sound like hearing from me was a pleasant surprise.

“Hey, hon. It seems I’m going to be busy for a little while longer. Have dinner without me, and I’ll see you when I get home.”

I could hear the disappointment in her voice. “Aw, need my alter-ego?”

“Hm.” I was tempted. But she’d been in the studio a lot lately, and I didn’t want to drag her over here if it wasn’t strictly necessary. I’d just given Diantha a warning, and while she was clearly pissy about it, I doubted she’d do anything drastic… not right away, anyway. “No, I don’t think so. I’ll let you know if that changes, okay?”

“I’m holding you to that. And I’ll set some dinner aside. Love you.”

“Love you too.” I’d lucked out when I married her, I really had.

The boys had been going down Centre-Ville. I pulled away from the curb and drove slowly in that direction, hoping Diantha wouldn’t do anything stupid.

####  **Day 3 - Ryu**

“Boss, I got a question.” I took a deep breath. “Why didn’t you just, like, recruit Max? Like you did with me?”

We were in the Chase Securities dojo, a room partly closed off from the gym and other training rooms. On one wall were racks of practice weapons, on the other a mu ren zhuang, all lacquered a dark reddish-brown. In the far corner was a locked cabinet that I was sure contained  _ actual _ weapons. The floor, like the rest of the training area, was covered with black high-impact foam mats.

Usually I gave my daily report in Chase’s office, on the top floor. I’d been surprised to get a message telling me to change into my gi and meet him here, but I was doing my best to be cool about it.

Chase remained in his perfectly straight-backed posture, expression barely changing. About all someone could tell from looking at him was that he was at least partly East Asian and that he worked out; he had a sort of ageless look. Cold-reading people is a survival skill I’m good at, but when I’d first met Chase, I’d been unnerved at how little I could pick up from him. After a while of getting used to his micro-expressions, and spending time with people who knew him, I’d realized he wasn’t as scary as I’d thought.

Well. Not so much “not scary” as “scary that had my back”.

“First, your situation was quite different,” he said. “Your family – all that we had located – was here. You had no household to disrupt.” His voice was even and reserved; he didn’t give much away vocally, either. I knew he wasn’t judging me about my situation, though; he’d spent time on the streets himself. “Second, we had a fair idea of what we could expect from you; you are, after all, one of eight prototypes. And third, Maxwell has a family member I am interested in. Having him in my care would make it more difficult to meet with them.”

“So…” It probably wasn’t Max’s mom. “That’d be either ‘Aunt Tammy’ or the half-brother Cymbree mentioned?”

“The latter.”

I nodded, resolving to keep an eye out for a guy older than Max, but with a family resemblance.

“I don’t believe Maxwell is currently in danger. AEGIS knows nothing of him yet, and I intend to keep it that way as long as possible.” He stepped onto the mat, which I figured meant the conversation was over.

I joined him and we bowed to each other. He straightened up and took a stance that barely looked like anything, knees slightly bent, arms loose at his sides.

I started out with standard strikes and kicks, as fast and hard as I did when sparring with my siblings, not holding back the way I’d do with a baseline human. Except… I wasn’t hitting him. He was still within my range of vision most of the time, but his body kept being just a little out of the way.

Okay then. I focused on moving fast, hoping to get one good hit that would make him pause long enough for me to get in a few more. He began to block and deflect me – easily, but at least he was putting in some effort now. Then I made the mistake of aiming a kick at his head. He caught hold of my ankle and yanked me so far off balance that I barely managed to break my own fall.

I sprang back to my feet. Chase had taken a half-step back, still looking at me with that measuring expression he’d worn since we started.

Now I was determined – okay, maybe a little  _ desperate _ – to prove myself. I delivered a flurry of rapid strikes again, but this time I moved in closer, allowing myself the kind of nasty moves that were useful in a street fight, but would have gotten me thrown out of most dojo. When I saw my chance, my hand shot out, thumb aiming directly at the inner corner of his left eye.

What I’d expected to happen was for his head to jerk back involuntarily, out of a deep-seated instinct to protect one of the body’s most precious organs, and that would have allowed me to punch his windpipe.

Chase barely even flinched. There was the tiniest flicker of a blink from him, and then I  _ felt _ my thumb sink into his flesh, dislodging the eyeball from its socket. My other hand struck his shoulder a bit weakly and fell away.

I stumbled back. “Oh shit.  _ Shit _ . Boss, I –”

Chase just looked evenly at me with his uninjured eye. His left eye, it…

...It was retracting back into its socket, the livid scrape on the ball already gone. There was a smear of blood on that side of his face, but you’d hardly have known he’d been hurt.

His eyebrows rose a hairsbreadth, taking in my reaction. “Shall we continue?”

“Uh.” Part of my brain was just muttering  _ holy shit holy shit _ over and over. Another part kept replaying that moment with my thumb in his eye socket, including the faint wet sound of it, like a sadistic sports cameraman. My sister had told me he could regenerate, but I guess I just hadn’t thought it was instantaneous, or hadn’t grasped all the ramifications of it. A clear, calm part of me said,  _ You should be glad you’re not able to cause him permanent damage _ . “Uh.”

He nodded once. There was a spot of clear moisture above his left cheekbone, evidence of something damp having rested there. “All right. That’s enough for today.” He glanced down. “You may want to wash your hand.”

Washing my hands gave me a few moments to take deep breaths and use some of the centering exercises Dr. Powers had taught me. By the time I left the bathroom, Chase was on his way out of the training area.

As I was trying to think of what to say, Chase’s phone buzzed. He looked down at it, and his features softened into what passed, for him, as a smile. He glanced back up at me. “Caitlin is on her way back. Her plane should land in about an hour.”

“Oh. Cool.” My sister had been under strict radio silence for the last few weeks, so I hadn’t been able to tell her what I’d been up to.

Speaking of which… “Uh, boss.”

“Yes?”

I took a deep breath. “Max needs to trust me, right? He’s pretty sharp. So’s Vanessa, for that matter. They’ve already figured out that I’m not telling them everything. Just… how much should I let on?”

“I’ll leave that to your discretion.” Another almost-smile. “I think Maxwell is lucky to have you as a friend.”

####  **Day 3 - Maxwell**

I was most of the way home, lost in my thoughts and in the now-reassuring murmur of machine voices, when I realized I wasn’t ready to walk in the door yet.

If I went home, there’d be that brittle tension in the air again. Mom had obviously been dreading the moment when I would ask for the truth about Aunt Tammy, and doing everything she could to put it off. And while I did want to find out the whole story, I didn’t like the idea of constantly having to reassure her that I didn’t feel hurt or angry about it. Granted, it was hard to tell just what I’d feel without knowing everything. And, I supposed, there was a part of me that hoped, deep down, that if I just put this off long enough, everything would go back to what I was used to.

At least if I walked in close to dinnertime, we could occupy ourselves with the business of the meal. Afterwards I could find some excuse to escape to my room.

I turned onto Riverside Drive, the main road which ran parallel to one of the small rivers that ran into the Saint Lawrence Seaway. In the winter, I’d read, it was closed off and allowed to freeze up, becoming a skating rink for the public, almost as big as the one in Ottawa. I crossed the street and went over to the strip of park which hugged the river, following the bicycle path that ran parallel to it. I recognized Knight’s Bridge by the  _ fu _ -lions flanking it, and started across.

I’d just reached the top of the bridge when I saw someone perched on the railing some metres away, facing outwards, a long white coat hanging behind them. My first thought was that they were going to jump into the river.

“Hey, wait!” I rushed forward, thinking I might be able to talk them out of it, or at least grab them by the coat.

The head snapped towards me in a movement that made me think of a great bird of prey. I stopped in my tracks. I couldn’t make out the person’s face, but I felt like she was staring right into my soul. She straightened up, standing steadily on top of the railing, and what I’d taken to be a coat spread open into a pair of enormous white feathery wings. She pushed off with her toes and glided towards me, silent as an owl, before landing a few steps away, wings tucking themselves neatly onto her back.

“Maxwell Amon.”

Her voice was weirdly resonant, like I’d been standing near a church bell that had just been struck. I felt myself standing up straighter, as if I were being summoned in front of a judge. Trying to look her in the eye was like trying to stare directly at the sun; even though I knew she wasn’t actually glowing, there was a  _ radiance _ to her that made me blink and wince away. I looked instead at her armour, which was the rosy gold of new copper, and clearly made to flatter a feminine form.

“Yes?” It occurred to me that wandering by myself this close to dark in a new city might be the single dumbest thing I’d ever done. “Who are you?”

“I am Harbinger. I have been watching you.”

That was an ominous name. “Why?” I looked around, suddenly wondering who  _ else  _ might be watching me. The faint rustle of wings drew my attention back to the angel, but by then I’d already been scooped up, one powerful hand under my knees, the other around my shoulders. She sailed up into the sky, carrying me bridal-style, and any protests I might have made were carried away by the wind.

“It is not safe to talk among the Green.  _ She  _ will hear you.” Harbinger’s voice was cold and even. Her armour, which I was now pressed against, felt oddly warm and ethereally lightweight; perhaps creatures like this didn’t wear any earthly metal. She turned and headed towards the city, keeping a solid grip on me. My stomach dropped and I fought down the impulse to clutch at her like a baby squirrel.

Harbinger soared over the city, gliding until she crossed over Rideau Park and landed on the roof of the Talisman Hotel. Far below, streetlights were lighting up the darkening streets. She set me down, and I took a moment to get my balance back, both literally and figuratively. “She?” I asked finally.

She crouched at the edge of the rooftop, wings partly folded in a horizontal position, eyes scanning the streets with a sort of habitual vigilance. “Diantha. She listens through the Green.”

“Diantha.” I reflexively translated the name. “That’s Greek for ‘flower’. And ‘the Green’... she can hear through plants?” I frowned. “But you were afraid of her listening in.”

“She fears you. And like many, she would destroy that which she fears.” The angel’s voice was cool and matter-of-fact. “But you smell of innocence. I see no reason why you should be punished.”

“Are you…” I hesitated, wondering if the question was presumptuous. “...are you my guardian angel?”

“I do not guard, young chimera. I avenge.”

“Oh.” Well, that wasn’t reassuring. I mentally filed away the word “chimera” for later analysis. “Punished for what?”

“Diantha is a hamadryad, a creature of wild places and growing things. She dislikes cities, and the noise and smell of the human world.” That sunspot face turned back to me. Maybe the gold-leaf haloes on paintings of holy people were medieval artists’ crude attempts to capture this. “You are a creature of the city. You are no threat to her  _ yet _ , but you may become one.”

I blinked. “Why would I be a threat? It isn’t like I have a vendetta against dandelions or something.”

The angel stared at me for a long moment, and I worried that I might have been too flip. Then she laughed. Despite the bell-like resonance, it was a surprisingly human sound. “You are easy to like, Maxwell Amon.”

That made me relax a little. “Call me Max, please. Ok, so… angels are also messengers, right? Someone wanted to warn me about her?”

“I thought it best.” She was back to being businesslike, but she sounded less chilly. “You have done no wrong, and if she wishes to confront you, she will have to do it alone.”

“Thank you.” I turned this over in my head. “So if she harmed me, it would be your duty to avenge?”

“If you remained innocent.”

I leaned against the air duct, pulling my jacket around me. “Does this mean I can’t, you know, have a girlfriend?”

The angel’s voice sounded faintly amused. “The pleasures of the flesh, freely shared, harm no one.”

“Okay. But I don’t need avenging yet.” Or ever, I hoped. “So…  _ heaven  _ is somehow interested in me?”

“I do not speak for Heaven, Max.” She lifted off the ledge with a beat of her wings, then turned to land facing me. “My interest is in justice. You have caught the attention of powerful forces, and are only just beginning to realize what is out there. I thought you should have a fighting chance. Now, let me bring you home, for it is not safe for you tonight.”

**Saturday**

####  **Day 3 - Ryu**

Jenny Haniver poked her head above the water. “Here’s your guy.” She hauled a swollen corpse up beside her. “Take his shoulders.”

I crouched down and grabbed the body under the armpits, trying to hold my breath. We were in the lagoon – well, not a real lagoon, but everyone called it that – by Rideau Park. Some distance away was a little island with a gazebo that was supposedly haunted, and past that was the Hangman’s Tree, which was  _ definitely  _ haunted. I was on a little wooden pier where people would tie their sailboats when the weather was nice enough. Right now it was late afternoon on a gloomily overcast day, so the place was pretty much deserted.

That was a good thing considering not only the fact that we were dredging for a body, but also because Jenny didn’t look human right now. Long, frilled spines like those of a lionfish sprouted from her scalp and along her arms, her skin was striped brown and white, and gills showed along the sides of her neck. Together we maneuvered the waterlogged corpse onto the pier. I set it down and was about to offer her a hand up – “being gallant”, as my brother would say – but she just placed both of her webbed, clawed hands on the planks and propelled herself out of the water with a powerful, boneless-looking flex of her legs. I settled for passing her a couple of thick towels, and she nodded her thanks. As she left the water, her human guise reasserted itself: a youngish woman with a swimmer’s build, light-brown skin a few shades paler from the chill, russet hair in dozens of skinny braids, and eyes that were only a touch wide-set and protuberant.

Jenny began to dry her naked-ass self with brisk motions, and I turned back to the reason I was here, covering my mouth and nose with one hand. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen a dead body, but it was the first time I’d seen a drowning victim. I’d been warned about the bloated face with its tongue sticking out, a symptom of many deaths involving lack of air. Those scrapes on the forehead, hands, and feet  _ could  _ have been signs of a struggle, but they could also have been the result of currents dragging the corpse along the rocks.

Those raw marks around the neck and wrists, though? Those weren’t from currents.

I called the number on my burner phone. “Boss? Found him.”


End file.
